King and Queen: Stone and Snow
by Renevatio
Summary: AU. Post HBP. Harry searches for the Horcruxes while at Hogwarts, fighting Voldemorts forces along the way. Harry becomes an outcast at Hogwarts and finds solace in the arms of another. A Harry x Female Blaise fic! Now rated M due to violence.
1. The Hold of Despair

**King and Queen: Stone and Snow**

**A/N: **This is my first Harry Potter fanfic. I apologize for any OOC. It's also an AU, seeing as how I turned Blaise into a girl. Post HBP. This story is dedicated to SakuraAnkh, my muse, who inspired this story.

_Italics- character thoughts_

**Chapter 1: The Hold of Despair**

**(Number Four Privet Drive, Harry's bedroom, 4:20 AM)**

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, was currently in his bedroom, at the woeful house belonging to Privet Drive, staring at the dismal ceiling, lying down on his bed in some kind of stupor. Harry had no wishes to be in this house, the home of his ill-tempered relatives, pain and anger flooding his senses at being in this house once again. Harry held no love for the Dursely's, assured that they felt no love for him as well; his being here only as a result of dead mans wishes.

Dumbledore, the greatest magician the light had ever know, was dead, his carcass unceremoniously tossed out of the Astronomy Tower near the end of last years term. Dumbledore, the man who was the comforting hand of the wizarding world that would chase away people's fear, had been murdered by one of his closest and most trusted friends. Dumbledore, the only wizard that Voldemort feared has perished in one of the Dark Lord's schemes, his surrogate grandson unable to save him and forced to watch his untimely death.

Harry slowly sat up on his bed, his emerald eyes leaving the dirty white ceiling. Harry looked around the dungeon that was his room. Spell books laid strewn about the floor, half open revealing a multitude of spells. Loose sheets of parchment and broken quills were thrown about the mess. Robes and other clothing were slumped over Harry's chair and desk, their condition being one of disarray. In one corner of the room were letters from Harry's friends, Ron & Hermione; some from Remus Lupin, one time mentor; others from Hogwarts staff relaying their condolences. It was at this corner that Harry's lifeless eyes remained.

_It doesn't matter what they say. No "we're sorry" or "it wasn't your fault" will make me forget that night and what I could have done to save him._ The memory of that night headed to the surface of Harry's mind. The look on Dumbledore's eyes as he pleaded with Snape to help him; the bewildered look of Draco Malfoy, scared for his life if he did not kill Dumbledore; the sneer of "Snivellus" Snape as he gazed down on the headmaster; the jet of green light that emerged from the tip of Snape's wand as he uttered the incantation that was to bring about the end of Albus; the chase of Draco and Snape through the grounds of Hogwarts; the realization of Snape being the Half-Blood Prince; and the image that played upon Harry's mind the most was the spread eagle form of Dumbledore as he lay on the smooth grass, a cold corpse.

Harry blamed himself for the death of his mentor, his friend, grandfather in all but blood. Harry forced the drink that led to Dumbledore's weakened state down his throat. Dumbledore's death caused by the inability of the boy-who-lived to save his life, all in search of a bloody horcrux that turned out to be a fake.

_The horcruxes…I should be looking for them right now._ The only thing that was stopping Harry from leaving was a letter he had received from Professor McGonacall, now Headmaster of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. In short, the letter informed Harry of his need to return for his final year, seeing as how it was the N.E.W.T year, but that she also had some important information for Harry that could only be discussed at Hogwarts.

Harry heard a tapping at his window and saw that it was Ron's owl, Pigwedgon. Harry rolled off his bed and stood up. Harry had grown again over the summer topping off at close to six feet, give or take an inch. His build was that of an athletic type, no definite muscle mass, but toned due to the years of Quidditch, his walk was smooth and relaxed, and taking long strides as he made his was to the window. Opening the window, Pig began to zoom energetically around the room, reminiscent of a golden snitch, only this one being a motley collection of brown. With natural reflexes that had only improved due to Quidditch, Harry deftly picked Pig out of the air and took the letter from his leg.

Harry,

Hey mate, me and Hermione are here at the burrow. Whenever you're ready to go just tell us and we'll be there. Hey Harry, what are we gonna do about Hogwarts?

Ron

Harry stood there mulling over Ron's question about Hogwarts. Harry hadn't told Ron or Hermione about the letter he had received from McGonacall. He was also pretty sure that they had received their letters from Hogwarts, informing them of their needed supplies for the upcoming school year, just like he had. He was just as sure that Hermione wanted to return for her N.E.W.T. year, despite what she admitted to Harry after Dumbledore's burial.

Harry made his decision as to what to tell them. He picked up a clean piece of parchment off the floor and found a quill that was miraculously unbroken. Harry moved over to his desk and shoved off the clutter that had formulated on it. Harry sat down on his poor excuse of a chair and began to write his response to Ron.

**(A flat in downtown London, 7:00 AM)**

The sound of running water could be heard throughout the flat, as Blaise Zabini took a shower. There was only one word to describe the look of Blaise Zabini; that word was Goddess. From the raven hair that fell down in waves past her shoulder, the smooth alabaster skin, her voluptuous curves and bosom, the crimson eyes that shone with intelligence. Her beauty surpassed that of the Greek goddess Aphrodite, her wisdom greater than Athena.

The warm water ran down her face and body, while Blaise's mind was calculating the possibilities of returning to Hogwarts for her last year. _There's nothing to be learned. The Death Eaters won't care how many N.E.W.T's I have, they'll kill me regardless._

Blaise had always been an interesting case in the house of Salazar Slytherin. People have always been under the assumption that if one is in Slytherin house, they are automatically worshippers of the dark arts and supporters of Voldermort's cause. With respect to Blaise, this was not true. She loathed the stupidity and sheer ignorance of her fellow Slytherins and their shortsightedness, which prohibited them from seeing more than just muggle born and pure blood. She was disgusted by their ineptitude to realize that this plays no factor into the strength and talent of a witch or wizard.

Blaise had developed a preference for the ways of the muggle world, which when compared to the haughtiness of the pureblooded wizards that surround her on a daily basis, is a considerable step up. She didn't find their ways stupid, as most wizards did; she actually thought some of them were ingenious. She found satisfaction in being to prepare her own food without the use of a wand.

Blaise turned the showerhead off and stepped out of the shower, her body covered by a towel wrapped snugly around her body, what skin could be seen glistened under the lights of her flat. She walked over to her closet, her feet making wet smacks on the floor, echoing throughout the flat, and chose her attire for the day. She chose an emerald green T-shirt that clung to her figure and a pair of jeans that were rather snug on her hips, flattering her curves.

Blaise walked over to the front door, turned off the lights to her flat, and stepped out the door. She began to walk over to a muggle coffee shop, where she sat down in one of their most comfortable chairs, which were lavished green and sat there pondering what she would now do in her life.

**(The Burrow, Ron's room, 11:26 AM)**

Ronald Weasley was sitting down on the edge of his bed, waiting for Pig to come back with a reply from Harry. While Ron was nervous, he did not show it as much as the beautiful lady behind him.

Hermione Granger was pacing furiously back and forth, muttering under her breathe, an occasional tossing of the hands in the air adding to the appearance of being nervous. Hermione had grown during the summer, in more ways than one. A couple of inches had been added, making her a few inches shorter than Harry and about five inches shorter than Ron. Her figure had also improved, her hips shaping out quite nicely and her chest becoming more buxom. Her beauty had grown during the summer and the effect was quite evident upon the face of Ron.

_I wished she'd stop pacing; she's starting to make me bloody nervous._ Ron looked again at Hermione's figure, a sigh escaping his lips. _Then again, I do love the way she walks…swaying those hips of hers._ A slight blush began to rise to Ron's cheeks as he began to think about those hips and more.

"What if he doesn't send anything back?" The distress in Hermione's voice was evident, as she wringed her fingers together._ Blimey, she looks cute when she does that._

Ron got off his bed and walked over to Hermione. Again Ron had grown several more inches, adding to his gangly appearance; however this did not detract from his looks, but rather added to them. He had an athletic build similar to Harry's, his stride somewhat the same as he walked towards Hermione. _Bugger, how's a bloke supposed to calm her down?_ Ron moved closer and placed his hands on Hermione, causing her to stop her pacing.

"You need to calm down, 'kay? He's bound to write back." Ron's tone carried a hint of hope, trying to instill the same in Hermione.

"He hasn't written back to all the other letters we sent him, so what makes you think he's going to now?" Hermione stared into Ron's eyes, biting her bottom lip.

"I don't know Hermione, but you need to calm down." _God, she looks gorgeous when she does that._

"I'm just…I'm just worried Ron! He could need our help right now and we wouldn't even know it!" Hermione leaned her head on Ron's chest, sobbing into his shirt.

Unsure of what to do, Ron did the only thing that came to mind. He wrapped his arms around Hermione's shoulders and held her close to his torso.

Hermione looked up from his chest to stare at Ron before putting her head back down on his chest. _I didn't realize how strong his arms are…they make me feel safe somehow._

At this moment, a certain energetic owl decided to peck madly at the window, breaking the two from their spell of peace. Ron silently cursed the Pig as he opened the window, catching Pig in his fist before he could fly around the room. Ron unfurled the letter he took from Pig's leg, letting the bird go.

"It's a letter from Harry"

Hermione quickly ran to Ron's side and began to read the letter

Ron and Hermione,

I got a letter from McGonacall saying how she has something for me and telling me she could only tell me at Hogwarts. She also told me 'bout how important it is to come back for the last year. I know that you really don't want to go back to school Ron, but I think Hermione does. So I've decided. We'll go back to Hogwarts. Meet me in Diagon Alley in two days outside Flourish and Botts.

Harry

"Back to Hogwarts! I don't want to go back" Ron sighed heavily, the looming doom of another year of school hanging over his head

"This is your most important year Ron! Your N.E.W.T's decided which job you'll be able to get after Hogwarts" Hermione looked up at Ron her dissapointment evident in her face.

"Aww, bloody hell!"

"Ron! What have I told you about cursing?"

Ron began to shake his head when he realized that his arms were still around Hermione and she hadn't bothered to tell him to move._ Rubbish she probably just needs me to comfort her. She...she wouldn't want me holding her for no reason._

"Ron?" Hermione stared into his eyes, a feeling of safety washing over her.

"Yeah, Hermione?"

"Everything's going to be okay, right?"

"Yeah, it's all gonna work out."

Ron and Hermione held each other in their arms, the future of the wizarding world playing through their mind, worrying about the safety of one green-eyed boy in particular.

**Author's Note: There you go the first chapter. If you're worrying about the way Harry is acting, it's because of all the death he has seen in his life. This is going to be a Harry x Blaise fic, with some Ron x Hermione. It's going to show up in a couple more chapters. Also does anyone know what year the Harry Potter story takes place? I also forgot when his birthday takes place. If anyone can tell me that would be a big help. Don't forget to press the review button!**


	2. Cloudy Day

**King and Queen: Stone and Snow**

**Author's Note:** **I wish to thank everyone that has reviewed so far. The year is important for timeline purposes for this story. I plan to have this story span over a year, so I think there are gonna be a lot of chapters. So without further ado here are my thanks to those people that reviewed my first chapter: **Black's Pheonix, dsfjr1190, Makotochi, Darthme1011, Infusco Necrotis, Incendium, Urgazhi, Do you Know Emily Davinson, Lord Nexus, Ariat Girl, purebloodprince.** Thank you all for reviewing.**

_Italics- character thoughts_

**Chapter 2: Cloudy Day**

**(August 29, 1997, Privet Drive #4, Harry's room, 6:00 AM)**

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, his hands cradling his head. The thoughts of years past continued to stream through his mind, reminding him of the pain that he had been dealt in his short life. The death of parents that he would never have a chance to know, the death of his godfather, with whom he had only been acquainted with for a short time, and the death of a mentor, who he adored and hated.

_It seems everyone I get close to, ends up dying on me. I can't seem to hold anything together._ Tears rolled down his cheeks, but were unaccompanied by the usual sobs. Harry's body tensed and he stared into mirror, which cast off a reflection of a broken man, one whose life has been shattered. Those emerald eyes which once shone with mirth, now cast off a dull green, devoid of warmth, love, and life.

Staring into face of a stranger, Harry gave off a low, cold chuckle._ Look at me. This is what happened because I decided to get close to people._ Harry gave a sad smile and stood up, his arms dangling to his sides, unwilling to move in these wretched times.

Harry shuffled off to his dresser, which matched the rest of the furniture in his room with a marred surface and broken hinges, its state a mirror of Harry's soul. Willing his lifeless arms to move, he pulled out a gray shirt three sizes too large and a pair of jeans fifteen inches too big.

Harry's motions were slow, in no hurry to rush towards Diagon Alley to meet his friends. The wizarding world had brought pain to Harry, as much as it brought joy. It was an escape from his reality when he lived with the Dursley's, a world filled with enchantment and wonder. However, Harry had also gained a share of bad experiences in the same world. There he encountered the man, no monster, who wishes for his demise. In that world were the deaths that plagued his mind.

Ron and Hermione had agreed to come with him to Diagon Alley several days ago, but now that the day was upon him, Harry did not wish to go. Hermione would ask a ceaseless amount of questions to which he did not wish to answer. Ron would make the situation, both awkward and dreadful, with his comments, whatever they might be.

_Doesn't matter now, I'm already up, might as well get moving._

Harry cast one more look into the mirror. A heavy sigh issued forth from his lips.

_Today's not gonna be a good day. I can feel it._

With that thought in mind, Harry walked out of both room and house, walking towards a bus station to take him into London and into the wizarding world.

**(A flat in downtown London, 8:50 AM)**

Blaise had woken up from a dreamless sleep, a look of worry etched on her features. Blaise swung her feet over the bed, stepping onto the soft padding of her apartment and walked over to the windows. Her crimson orbs stared into the darkening sky, clouds covering what sunlight could be seen. A howling wind could be heard through the room, even though the window was sealed tight. Her gaze flickered over to the sprawling masses, ignorant of the impending war.

A low rumble was heard in the sky, clouds darkening further. Again, her attention was enraptured by the cloudy ceiling.

_This is going to be a bad day. I should stay inside._ Blaise sighed as she realized this wasn't an option for her today. She had to go in to Diagon Alley and see about purchasing some items of security for her home.

She ambled over towards the shower, turning it on once she stepped inside. The cold water washed over her body, clearing her mind, allowing her to think. It was a daily mantra of sorts, to awaken with a cold shower; she would feel rejuvenated, her mind would be sharp, ready for the day's trials.

She stepped out of the shower a few minutes later, wrapped up in a towel. After picking out her clothes for the day, a white blouse and a scarlet skirt that went past her knees, she sat down on her bed and began combing her raven tresses, all the while thinking of her future, or lack of one.

_After this war is over, I'll go back to living like I should. If I survive that is. _Blaise moved towards her clothing, looking at them for any tears before donning them. Blaise shuffled around her flat, looking for her wand. After locating it, she walked out the door an umbrella in hand to repel the rain that had begun to pour.

She walked past the strange faces, moving towards the Leaky Cauldron. About a block away from her destination, a bus pulled up next to her and in her haste to get towards Diagon Alley, she bumped into one of the passengers that had gotten off. Before she could fall, hands clamped around her waist and pulled her back to her feet.

Blaise stared into the eyes of her would be savior. She noted that his skin looked pale and that his hair was an utter mess, sticking out at odd ends. She saw heavy bags underneath his eyes, indicating a lack of sleep. Her gaze flickered over to his eyes, a lifeless green.

_His eyes…they look dead._

**(Harry's POV)**

"Are you okay?" Harry removed his hands from her waist, noticing that it was quite supple. Harry looked her over and found her quite beautiful, but his mind was far from noticing it. It was her eyes that stuck him. She had the eyes that **he** had. Voldemort._ No she doesn't. These aren't filled with malice._

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you." She gave him a slight smile.

"You're welcome." Harry turned away and began to walk towards the Leaky Cauldron. In short time he noticed that the girl was following him.

"Excuse me, but are you following me?" Harry's had begun to narrow, suspecting a threat.

"No, I'm heading over to the Leaky Cauldron. You?" Harry picked up an amused tone in the girls voice.

"Same."

"Seeing as how we're going towards the same place and I haven't thanked you properly, want to share my umbrella? It is raining if you haven't noticed."

Harry gave her a bewildered look and turned his head to the sky, noticing that it was indeed raining.

"Yep, looks like its raining." He looked at the girl and saw that she was giggling. For some odd reason, Harry felt relaxed, the burdens of despair lightening.

"Muggle?" She asked Harry with jovial tone.

"No. Walk?" She nodded to his clipped question. Harry took hold of the umbrella, so she would not have to reach so high to cover them both. Their hands touched for the slightest moment, an inexplicable shock coursed through Harry's body. _What the hell just happened? I touched her and then…ah, it was nothing._

Arriving at the door to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry twisted the knob and let his mystery girl pass through before he followed suite. Walking towards the brick wall, the girl pulled out her wand, tapping the solid bricks three times. Walking through, Harry handed the girl her umbrella.

"Thanks, for sharing your umbrella."

"Thanks, for stopping me from falling."

They looked at each other's eyes again, the action caused from when they touched hands, replaying through their heads.

"It was nice meeting you." Harry looked into her eyes one more time before walking away.

"Same here." Harry turned around at her reply and gave her a curt nod. Looking forward once more, Harry could see Hermione, Ron, and most of the Weasley clan. His heart, once again took on a saddened state, falling so soon after being so high.

**(Blaise's POV)**

_Hmm…that was interesting. I never caught his name. Oh well, doesn't matter. It's not likely I'll be seeing him anytime soon._

Blaise began to walk towards a shop selling protective items, not knowing that she would be meeting him very soon.

**(Narrative)**

"Ron, look! It's Harry!" Hermione was practically jumping for joy. Having not heard from Harry caused a great deal of stress to the girl's heart, in worry from losing a friend.

Six heads of flaming red hair turned at her statement, looking towards where she was pointing. Sure enough, there he was the boy-who-lived. Friends, an old lover, and parental figures rushed over towards the boy. Upon seeing his face, their faces became crestfallen.

"Blimey, Harry…you look awful." Ron's jaw was open, surprise on his face as he looked at the figure of his friend. He saw Harry's head and he saw sadness in his friend's eyes.

The women of the party gasped and put hands to their mouths. It was those eyes. Those same eyes that held so much laughter in the years before had become quiet.

"Thanks, mate." Harry's tone was clipped and cold, rough and raw, void of happiness.

"Harry…what have they done to you?" Hermione was visibly shaking, her voice laced with concern.

"They didn't…do anything…terrible did they?" Molly Weasley, the only mother Harry had ever known, had tears in her eyes, dreading the answer.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." That same tone rolled off Harry's lips, frightening them.

"Well they must have done something…"

"Ron, Ginny, and Hermione have been sending letters…"

"All summer, with no reply. Surely…"

"That was their fault." Fred and George finished their ramblings, questions on their faces, pondering what the Dursley's could have done to Harry.

"No." Harry's voice had become slightly harsher, annoyed that they wouldn't stop asking questions.

"It's okay now, Harry. You're here with us." Arthur Weasley looked at Harry and begged to cry upon seeing the hollow look Harry was giving him.

"We'll take care of you Harry. I'll take care of you." Ginny launched herself at Harry and gave him a passionate kiss on the lips, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Harry stood there, non-responsive; his arms lay at his sides, hands in his pockets; his lips like stone, unmovable.

**(Harry's POV)**

Harry's mood had worsened at his conversation progressed. Annoyed that they thought his condition was to blame on the Dursley's. _Didn't they even think that I didn't want to talk to them?_

When Ginny had latched herself onto him, Harry's patience grew thin._ I had told her it wouldn't work and the first thing she does is kiss me! What the hell is she thinking?!_

Harry felt Ginny let go and saw hurt in her eyes. He merely shook his head and looked at all of them in turn. A heavy sigh escaped his lips.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" Harry was about to explode on all them for their ignorance in not seeing that he hurt, but saw their faces, concern on every one of them. Harry quickly shut whatever response he had._ They don't know how I feel. What else did I expect?_

Harry began to nod his head, but stopped. His eyes widened slightly when he saw a black cowl disappearing into an alley. His eyes frantically began scanning the area, looking for more. His eyes looked towards the far end of the street, seeing the familiar black cloak._ There's another one. Are they anymore?_

"Harry what's wrong?" Harry barely acknowledged that Mr. Weasley was asking him something, so busy in his search, everything else was shut out.

Harry looked towards the roofs and saw a dozen more death eaters, in addition to the twenty he had found on the streets.

"Mr. Weasley. Get as many Order members as you can and evacuate as many people as possible. We have little time."

"What is it Harry? What's the matter?" Harry looked over at Hermione, seeing worry in her eyes.

"Death Eaters."

**Author's Notes: Cliffhanger! Before you people start bashing me for Harry's OOC, it is very important to note that Harry is extremely depressed and angry. Depressed with all that's happened in his life and angry because everyone keeps coddling him like a child. I'm sure you noticed that I used the POV in this chapter. It will only come up when I'm dealing with multiple characters that are in the same scene. If you had trouble following it, let me know because I'm having a battle in the next chapter and I'm considering doing the POV thing again.**

**Also, I know my grammar is horrible, (I never paid attention in that part of class) so if anyone would want to beta this, you would be a lifesaver. Just say so in your review. I wish it would be someone from the age of 16 or 17 and up because the next few chapters are going to be very graphic in terms of the battle.**

**With that said, I thank you for reading my story. Press the lower-left button!!**


	3. Leadership in Times of Crisis

**King and Queen: Stone and Snow**

**Author's Notes:** Okay another round of applause for those who reviewed! (Clap, clap) Again you have my thanks for reviewing the second chapter. I hope you liked that Harry and Blaise moment. As for why they didn't recognize each other, it will be explained in the coming chapter. All right, I know I said there was gonna be a big battle for this chapter, but it was so long I had to cut it short. I already have the second part of the battle written, so I'm gonna update in about three days if possible. Again my thanks to those who reviewed: darthme1011, Vulkan, Do you Know Emily Davison, Urgazhi, Pastyglue, Tg77ed, Jbern, Ariat Girl, PsychoX, and Cardinair.

Also I want to extend my thanks to "SakuraAnkh" for being my beta for this story.

Okay now that my thanks have been give out, let's get on with the story now shall we?

_Italics- character thoughts_

**Chapter 3: Leadership in Times of Crisis**

**(Diagon Alley, 9:43 AM)**

Mr. Weasley blinked at Harry's words, unable to believe what his ears had just heard.

"What did you say Harry?" Mr. Weasley gave a nervous chuckle at seeing the hard glint in those emerald eyes.

"Death eaters. Around thirty of them. They're probably gonna attack Diagon Alley any minute now. With Dumbledore dead, people are already in a panic, and so Voldemort is trying to scare them even more." Harry's voice was calm, devoid of any sense of urgency.

"Oh Harry dear, stop speaking such nonsense. It's just your nerves dear, it's perfectly all right. Everything is all right." Mrs. Weasley was shaking her head slightly, refusing to acknowledge Harry's warning.

"Yeah, mate. It's not a real good joke, even I know that." Ron gave a nervous chuckle just like his father, attempting to put Harry's words as a joke and nothing more.

Those emerald eyes simply looked on to every person in front of him, gazing into their souls. Their owner stood still as stone, refusing to move an inch, in both body and argument. The only thing to show that he was alive was the steady rising of his chest and the slight scowl that had attached to his features.

"Harry stop it, you're really starting to scare us. My mum is right about this Harry, everything is all right." Ginny's voice had taken on a note of panic, which only grew as she rambled on upon noticing Harry's scowl deepen.

"Hermione, I have no reason to lie about this. If you need proof look at the rooftop of Flourish and Blotts," Harry's eyes flickered over to said rooftop, "Don't make seem like you're looking or else they'll know. We can't let them see us noticing them; it'll cause them to start attacking."

Hermione's eyes slowly looked over at Flourish and Blotts. There on the rooftop, five figures clad in black cloaks. Nothing to say they were death eaters, until one of them turned their body and there she saw it. She saw the pale white mask, which had come to haunt the wizarding world.

"I see them Harry…what do we do?" Chocolate eyes, which had been filled with dread at the beginning, now shone with hope as they bore into the emerald eyes of her friend, her leader.

**(Harry's POV)**

_Finally, someone decided to believe me._ He gave a quick nod to Hermione, the gesture saying both "thanks" and "I know what to do"

"Mr. Weasley, I need you and Mrs. Weasley to contact as many order members as possible. Fred and George, if you're willing to stay, I could use your help. Ron and Hermione same thing. Ginny, you're under age, so if you're mum and dad give the okay, then you can stay; I'd prefer that you left with your parents."

He noticed that everyone was looking at him, staring more like it. _ What in the bloody hell did I do? Oh, that's right. I started giving orders like some fool of a commander._

"Harry, I can have the order here without having to leave. You see this?" Mr. Weasley pulled out a small pendant from his robes. It was diamond shape in design and was quite plain, save for the small engraving of a phoenix, "I can have the order here in two to three minutes with a tap of my wand."

"Arthur! Have you gone mad?! Are you seriously considering of thinking what you are doing?! And you Harry! This must be left to those who are properly trained to deal with this!" Mrs. Weasley shouted in a hushed whisper, hands balled into fists resting on her hips.

_Just keep going. Don't stop to answer her._

"All right Mr. Weasley, contact them." He turned towards Fred and George, completely ignoring the look of shock and rage on Mrs. Weasley's face, "Do you two have anything interesting in your shop?"

"Why yes we do…"

"O proprietor of our wares"

He saw them pull out several mucus colored orbs from their robes._ What in Merlin's name are those?_

"Well Fred, would you like to do the honors of explaining our newly patented device, nicknamed the Slimer, to young Harry?"

"Why certainly George. Now Harry, this is called the Slimer." George pointed to the mucus colored orb, "when activated it has a five-second delay before squirting off a foul smelling liquid that hardens instantly upon coming into contact with any surface. From clothes to the face of death eater, this baby can stick to it and it is plenty hard to take off. Not even a vanishing charm can remove this."

"Brilliant. When I give the word, I want each of you to throw one. This will give us some time to…" Before he could finish voicing his plan, he was rudely interrupted by the matriarch of the Weasleys._ This isn't gonna be good._

"Harry! You will not be participating in this! You may not be part of my family, but you are underage, so you will leave with Arthur and me." Mrs. Weasley gave a huff to young Harry, daring him to challenge her authority.

He was about to speak when out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione starting to open her mouth.

"Actually Mrs. Weasley, you are wrong. Harry is no longer underage; he had his birthday last month. Isn't that right Harry?" Hermione looked to him with a small smile. He could only look on with a confused look, "Oh, Harry, don't tell me you forgot you're birthday?" Hermione's face became crestfallen as she looked at Harry.

"I guess I did."

"But Harry…I sent you a really important letter…how could you forget?" He saw Ginny's face change from sadness to anger in a few seconds.

"I had other things on my mind Ginny." _ Yeah, nothing like seeing someone die to make you forget your birthday._

"Didn't you see that the letter was from me, Harry?" Ginny's stance changed to mock her mothers, "well did you Harry?"

_Bugger this._ His eyes narrowed as he looked at Ginny.

"Are you honestly asking me that right now?" Ginny nodded her head furiously, "right now, when there are death eaters?" Her nodding became sedated, "right now, when those death eaters are about to attack and kill people?" Her head ceased to move.

_About time, I knocked some sense into her._

"Good, now as I was saying..." _I'm not gonna get anywhere Mrs. Weasley keeps stopping me._ "Yes, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Harry, you can and will not fight those death eaters!" Never in Mrs. Weasley's life has she been challenged by a child, but today that would change.

"Mrs. Weasley, even though I'm extremely angry with you, I can understand what you are trying to say; but how do you think I'm gonna be able to stand up to Voldemort, if I'm too afraid to fight his lackeys? I am going to fight and nothing you say or do will change that." He let a small smirk come across his face after seeing Mrs. Weasley's face, "Now if you could please take Ginny out of here. I'm sure you won't disagree with me on that."

"We're sorry mum, but we're gonna help…"

"Dear old Harry here, we are of…"

"Age just so you know…"

"So like we said we're gonna fight."

"Fine then, I've never been able to stop you before now have I?! Ron and Hermione, come over here, we have to leave." Mrs. Weasley's face was full of anger at hearing Fred and George's decision to stay.

"Sorry mum…but, I'm staying too." Harry saw Ron look his mother straight in the eye. _ About time he stood up to her._

"Ronald Weasley! You certainly are not…" Mrs. Weasley was bellowing at the top of her lungs, until Arthur put a hand on her shoulder.

"Molly." Harry saw her turn towards her husband, a look of surprise on her face, "Ron is of age and so is Hermione. I may not like it, but they have the right to be here just as much as Harry does. Besides sweetie-pie, they fought at the ministry remember? They survived against death eaters before."

Harry looked towards Mr. Weasley, surprised and grateful that he would stand up for him, Ron, and Hermione. Harry took great joy in seeing Mrs. Weasley huff and puff away as she took Ginny by the scruff of her neck and disapparated.

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley"

"Arthur, Harry. You've earned the right to call me that." Harry saw the respect in Mr. Weasley's eyes, seeing that he was in fact telling the truth.

"Well then, Arthur, let's get ready. Contact the order. The rest of you stay in the street and when the death eaters start attacking, I need you to start getting people out of here. We have to save as many people as we can. Understand?"

Four heads of flaming red hair and one with a bushy mane of brown, nodded, understanding their roles in the coming fight.

"Okay then. All we do now is wait."

Harry leaned up against the wall of Madame Malkins, counting the seconds in his head as he waited for the chaos to begin. His gaze shifted from person to person, seeing how each of them seemed oblivious to what would come next.

_I knew this was gonna be a bad day._ He looked up towards the sky, rain drops falling on his glasses._ I should have stayed inside._ His head fell down to look at the ground, as he waited for the first scream.

"DEATH EATERS!!!!!"

_It's time._

**(Arthur's POV)**

Arthur looked towards the end of the street and saw the people running like mad, the panic spreading like wildfire. The screams grew louder as more death eaters made their presence known. Curses of various colors began to fly about striking both people and buildings alike.

"HARRY!!" Arthur called to get Harry's attention, but he saw he was already giving orders to the others. He saw Ron and Hermione moving towards the exits, shouting over the din in an attempt to get people out as fast as they can. His eyes flickered over to Fred and George throwing their "slimers". Just like his boys said, after five seconds it imploded, sending a rank liquid to hit several death eaters in the face.

"Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!" His wand had whipped out before he knew he had it in his hand, three jets of red light flying through the air. They impacted on the chests of three death eaters that were trying to claw off the crud left by his sons' gadget. Drops of blood flailing through the air from where they had shred their skin, in an attempt to remove the foul appendage from their skin and mask

Several distinct "pop" sounds could be heard round. Arthur turned his head to see himself surrounded by order members. Many he barely knew, but there were a few recognizable faces amongst them: Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Alastor Moody.

"Arthur! Where's Harry?!" Remus shouted to him, worry evident in his voice

"I'm right here Moony!" Arthur saw Harry waving as he ran towards them. He saw Harry turn his head and fire off a reductor curse towards the leg of a death eater, shattering the bone in several places, then a quick stunning spell, followed by the binding curse._ Blimey, he's getting good._ Arthur's eyes shone with awe as Harry approached him and Remus.

**(Harry's POV)**

"Arthur, I need you to take Kingsley and a third of the order with you and cover the south end of the Alley. Remus, take Tonks and another third to cover the middle section. Moody, take the last third to cover the northern exit. First priority is the people, death eaters second. Once they have all gotten out, then start working on the death eaters. For each group, I want half working on shields, the other half working on stunners and binding jinxes. If you have to use a nasty curse, use it, but only as a last resort."

He saw all heads swivel towards him just like last time._ Aww, bugger. I've gone and done it again._ Moody, Arthur, and Kingsley gave him looks of admiration and curt nods before setting off in their respective assignments. Remus and Tonks had dropped jaws and shock written all over their faces.

"Since when have you gotten professional? I've never even Kingsley act like that and he's a senior Auror!" Tonks still had that shocked expression on her face; it seemed incapable of removing itself.

"And since when did you start calling Arthur by his first name?" Remus gave Harry an inquiring gaze.

Harry couldn't help but let out a loose chuckle._ I wish they could see their faces right now._

"Well, I taught the DA two years ago, so I'm used to giving out orders to large groups. And I have started calling Mr. Weaseley by his first name ever since he said I had the right to."

Harry saw Tonks giggling and Remus outright laughing. _Good to know some people can still laugh like that. _Harry started to smile as he continued to watch them.

"Well come on you two lovers. We have a battle to finish, so get going." Harry started to chuckle again at seeing their faces grow red with embarrassment.

"Will do cub," Remus put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave a slight squeeze, "Sirius and your parents would be proud. Now don't die on me Harry."

"Don't worry I won't," Harry started to run towards Hermione and Ron at the northern end of Diagon Alley, "Same goes for you and Tonks!"

Harry continued to run through the crowd that was desperately trying to get out. He had just passed the Quidditch Supply store when he heard that voice._ It's her. She's here._ He turned his body to see a lone death eater twirling a small child in the air, cackling mad as the girl continued to scream. He aimed his wand for a quick "stupefy", but before he had a chance, the death eater cast the banishing charm to send the child through the window of a building. The death eater then began firing "reducto" curses, leveling the building. Harry's eyes were drawn to the small pool of blood that had begun to seep through the rubble.

"Aww, is wittle Potter scared? Have I scared da baby?" The death eater raised a hand to remove the pale mask. Harry's grip on his wand tightened as he saw her face.

"Hello, Bellatrix." Harry's voice was calm, belying the rage that was building inside of him.

"So polite Harry. Has Dumbledore managed to teach you some manners? Oh, that's right he died didn't he? Is da baby crying?" Bellatrix started laugh like a hyena.

"Sorry to disappoint Bella dear, but I'm afraid it was that half-blood fool of a master you called Voldemort that told me about manners." Harry gave a cold chuckle at seeing Bella's face become shrewd with a boiling rage

"Don't you dare talk about him in that way!" Bellatrix leveled her wand at Harry, all pretense of toying with him gone.

_I really should have stayed in today._ Harry aimed his wand at Bella's chest and their duel began.

**Author's Notes:** Please don't hurt me for failing to keep my promise!! But I swear I will have the rest of the battle in the next chapter. I hope you like this cliffie. (I smile wickedly) The faster you guys review, the faster I'll pump out the next chapter. If you guys could point out anything that I missed in concern with major stores in Diagon Alley, that would be great.


	4. Ode to Innocence

**King and Queen: Stone and Snow**

**Author's Notes:** Here you go people, the rest of the battle scene and the explanation for why Blaise and Harry didn't recognize each other. Again, my thanks to those who reviewed last time:jbern, Alexander Black, Urgazhi, Irishfigter, neon007, SakuraAnkh, Tg77ed, Ariat Girl, Do you Know Emily Davison

Now without, further ado, on to the chapter.

**Chapter 4: Ode to Innocence**

**(Hermione's POV)**

"Incendio!" The death eater's robes caught fire, distracting him long enough for Ron to get off a stunner.

"Oi! Everybody start moving this way! Keep the kids in the middle!" She saw Ron shouting over the noise, waving his arms like a madman, pointing the people towards the emergency floo exit. Hermione had never seen him act so confident, so…brave. _I didn't know he had it in him._

"Hermione! Behind you!" She turned around at hearing Ron's words and there in front of her eyes stood a death eater. His mask was already gone, a putrid smell wafting from his face, left from the toy of the twins. His silvery blond hair caked with blood, long scratches marring his face, his eye an open wound, some of the crud could be seen around the eye socket.

"Time to die mudblood." Lucious Malfoy had a look of pure hate and disgust carved in his pale face. His wand aimed at her face, Hermione could only stand in fear._ Oh sweet Merlin._

"Avada…" Lucious never had the chance to finish the killing curse as he was blown backwards, sailing through the air, only to land in the middle of Diagon Alley. Hermione turned to see Ron running towards her, wand still aimed at where Lucious had been moments ago.

"Hermione are you okay?" Ron's hands wrapped around Hermione's shoulders and gently shook her.

"I'm fine Ron, just fine." Her voice was shaky, matching her body as she shook uncontrollably. _I almost died._ "Ron, we have to take care of the people, all right?"

Ron slowly nodded his head in understanding. He took her free hand in his and they started running off towards a group of people that were being flogged by death eaters.

**(Harry's POV)**

For the few minutes into the battle, Harry had only been able to defend. Bellatrix had no fault in her form, attacking ruthlessly, putting him on constant edge._ One slip and I'm done for._

A stream of curses flew at Harry as he dived towards a pile of strewn rubble, attempting to find some amount of cover, to give him some time to breathe. Pieces of stone began to fly about as Bella's curses continued to hit Harry's cover._ I need to do something and fast._

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Bella began to cackle as she threw curse after curse.

"What's the matter Bella?! Can't hit a mere Hogwarts student? Can't even aim properly at a child?! And you're one of Voldy's best! How pathetic! Is this all that you're half-blood of a master can send!" Harry heard Bella scream at the top of her lungs, not bothering to register what she was raving about.

Harry jumped from behind his shelter, wand at the ready.

"Sectumsempra! Reducto!" The first curse flew rapidly in a silver arc, slicing Bella from hip to shoulder, blood splaying the front of her robes. The second curse struck the open wound, causing her to fly back from impact and shattering several ribs at once.

Bella lifted herself from the ground coughing blood. The look on her face was indescribable.

"CRUCIO!! EXPELLIARMUS!"_ Bloody hell!_ Harry dodged the first curse by diving to his right, but was hit in the chest by the second, knocking out his wand and the pure force behind the spell sending him flying. Harry hit a support beam of the Quidditch Supply store, one of the few stores still standing, on the inside of his right elbow, the impact breaking the bone. Harry screamed in agony as the bone shred through his skin, the bone jutting out of his arm, glistening with blood. The rain, which had continue to pour through the battle began to wash away some of the blood, leaving the bone a starling white.

"Time to die, Harry!" That raving lunatic began to laugh once more as she aimed her wand at Harry the last time.

"Avada Kedav…" Before Bella could finish, Harry had dived through the window of the store, shards of glass imbedding in his back and arms. He skidded across the floor, his injured arm flaring as it scraped against the floor.

"Incendio! Incendio!" Flames started to sprout amongst the walls and shelves of the store._ There's still one that works!_ Harry looked to the far end of the store and saw a Fireboat, still in flying condition, a few burns marring the surface, but otherwise fine. Harry scrambled to the Fireboat and hopped on, taking off and flying out the store.

Harry heard the bellowing screams coming from underneath him, paying them no mind as he climbed higher and higher towards the sky._ Here goes._ Once in the clouds, Harry grasped the handle of the broom with both hands, pain washing over him as he did so. Harry flipped end over end and started flying back towards the ground. Laying flat on the broom, Harry coaxed as much speed as he could out of the broom.

The wind whipped around Harry as he sped towards his target. Harry began to roll and swerve as curses started coming his way. _Almost there._ Bella's figure could be seen in the distance, wand moving in rapid motions, colored lights emanating from the tip of her wand.

Inches before the ground Harry lifted his broom one more time, the tail scarring the ground. Harry shot out with one leg as he zoomed past Bella, connecting with her jaw. The distinct sound of her jaw breaking could be heard.

All of sudden Harry was thrown off his broom and fell to the surface, legs shattering as they connected with the ground. Harry let loose another scream as unbelievable pain flooded his senses._ FUCK! THIS HURTS!_ Harry let loose another cry of pain as he rolled over to face Bella, a smirk on her shattered face, blood pouring down on to her robes.

"HARRY!!!" Harry turned his head to see Remus and Tonks running towards him. Remus started to duel with Bella as Tonks kneeled down next to Harry. Harry didn't hear the spells she was uttering, instead paying attention to the pain that was fading away. _I feel better already._

"Here Harry, drink this. It's a replenishing potion." Harry opened his mouth and let Tonks pour down the clear blue liquid down his throat._ It tastes sweet._ "Are you okay Harry?"

"A little hurt, but I'm good." Harry tired moving his legs and his right arm, pleased when he found that he could. With great care Harry stood up, taking in deep breathes as he looked upon the carnage. His eyes quickly found Remus and Bella. Curses reflecting off shields, both combatants weary and bloodstained, shoulders sagging as the battle drew on.

Then as luck would have it, Bella got off one luck curse, banishing Remus across Diagon Alley. Remus impacted against the sign of Ollivander's, the wooden sign jagged in certain places, barely hanging onto the establishment. Rebus's back struck against the sign, pieces of wood digging into his spine and piercing his right shoulder and left kneecap.

Harry saw Remus cough blood as he fell into unconsciousness. Tonks rushed towards Remus, casting levitation charms to bring him down and quickly healing him before he could lose any more blood.

Harry ran towards Bellatrix, who was laughing like a crazed lunatic. Harry struck out with his left fist, hitting Bella's jaw causing it break further. With his right hand he pulled out his wand, which Tonks had handed to him earlier and took aim at her jaw.

"REDUCTO!!" The curse flew and hit Bellatrix in the jaw, completely eradicating whatever was left. Bella staggered backwards, blood gushing out from her jaw. She looked upwards and shot a Harry a look of complete rage. Her jaw was completely gone, her mouth an open cavern of red. Her tongue was rolling around loose, stained heavily with blood that continued to gush forth._ Merlin, what did I do?_

Harry cringed at seeing the horror before him._ I can't let this stop me._ Harry gave his head a slight shake and took aim at Bella once again, before he could cast the body-binding spell, Bella disapparated from his view. Harry lowered his wand slowly and ran towards Remus and Tonks.

"Is he gonna be okay Tonks?" Harry looked over Remus with concern, but it vanished when Tonks gave him a heart-warming smile

"He's gonna be okay, he's just knocked out right now. I healed all his wounds so there's no worry." Tonks turned back to Remus, all her attention on the wolf, lightly stroking his cheek and brushing aside his hair.

Harry looked around Diagon Alley and saw that most of the death eaters were subdued and everybody had been evacuated. _We won. At least today. _Harry looked towards the southern end of Diagon Alley and his eyes widened in shock.

**(Blaise's POV) **

The fighting had been brutal, blood everywhere, the ground littered with the bodies of people that couldn't get out in time or were trampled in the mad rush to get out. Blaise had a nice collection of cuts over her body, but none were too deep as to cause any trouble or to leave any scars.

She had been able to save some people, but some were killed by death eaters. She had never seen anyone murdered and it was a gruesome sight to behold. Some would fall helplessly when struck with the killing curse, others would bleed to death from the massive wounds that had been inflicted upon them. Blaise had been able to stun and body-bind two death eaters on her own, helping the others that seemed to fight as an organization._ I wonder who they are._

"And what do we 'ave 'ere? Tell me little girl, what are you doing in a place like this? And why are you fighting death eaters?" A thick accent spoke in a slow drawl, causing

Blaise to turn, leveling her wand at the death eater.

"Stupe…"

Before Blaise could finish, sickly silver light flashed from the death eater's wand. The light impacted against her right shoulder blade, piercing bone and flesh. Blaise spun around from the force of the spell, falling down on her knees, wand still in hand as her back was facing the death eater.

"Avada…"_ Here it is. I'm gonna die._

A weight pushed itself on top of Blaise, crushing her against the ground. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a green light pass by over the head of her savior.

"Sectumsempra!"

A horizontal line appeared on the death eater's throat as he was cut down. A slow drizzle of blood flowing from the cut, the death eater fell backward, leaving nothing but a warm corpse.

She looked into the eyes of her hero and saw those emerald eyes, which she had only met what seemed a few moments ago.

"It's you. You saved me."

**(Harry's POV)**

"Yeah, it's me."

Harry was panting heavily, the exertion of running towards the girl exhausting, once added with the rest of the day's events. He got off of her and sat on his haunches, eyeing her as she sat in front of him.

"Were you fighting the death eaters?" He saw her nod in response to his question.

"Did you fight them as well?" Harry slowly nodded his head.

He saw her eyes widen in shock, but before he could ask her as to why, he heard an arrogant voice from behind him.

"Die! Avada Kedav…"

Time seemed to slow down for Harry. In one instant he thought he was going to die, but then he saw the girl moving towards him, tackling him to the ground. His head snapped back to look at the eyes of Lucious Malfoy, empty eye socket and blood all over his face.

"Reducto!"

He saw the crimson light sail towards Lucious, going through the hole in his eye to hit his brain. Chunks of a grey matter flew from his eye socket and out of the back of his head as the redactor curse utterly destroyed his brain. Lucious Malfoy fell backwards, a look of shock on his pale and gaunt face.

**(Blaise's POV)**

Letting her wand drop to the ground she looked into the eyes of the man she just saved.

"You saved me."

"I believe one good turn deserves another, don't you?"

Blaise let her head fall forward, gently resting against his forehead, and the bangs of his hair making a soft, but messy pillow. Her eyes continued to gaze into his, his hot breath tickling her lips.

"Thanks"

"You're welcome"_ His eyes, they don't seem so dead anymore. _

**(Harry's POV)**

_She looks beautiful._

Harry was lost in her eyes, his heart seeming to stop. His face quickly became flush as he realized where she was, or more specifically, who she was on top of. He saw curiosity register in her eyes, which quickly changed to understanding as she came to the same conclusion as him. Her face changed to match his color, as she jumped off him.

Harry lifted himself up, seating himself in a cross-legged style. His heart was pumping furiously as he tried to calm himself down. He took slow and steady breaths and noticed her doing the same thing.

"Hey, I never learned your name." He saw her look up, a small smile on her face.

"It's Blaise, Blaise Zabini. And what's your name?"

"Harry. Harry Potter." Harry's heart started to beat faster as she leaned towards him. She gently pushed back his bangs, revealing his famous scar.

"I didn't recognize you, when I saw you."_ She knows me?_

"And what does that mean?"

"Your eyes…there was no life in them. All the years before, your eyes used to shine with joy."

"All the years before?" _Am I supposed to know her?_

"Yes. I'm a Slytherin you see, or rather was." _Of course, she went to Hogwarts._

"Sorry that I didn't recognize you. I've had a lot on my mind lately. Voldemort and all that. You graduated from Hogwarts?" He saw Blaise shake her head, her raven hair lightly striking Harry's face.

"No. I'm not going back for my last year."

"Me neither…but actually I think I may end up going." Harry looked down at his feet.

"What made you change your mind?"

"Seeing all of today, I realized I have a lot to learn. And if I'm going to beat Voldemort, I'm gonna need to learn what I need to know, in order to face him." He felt her hand cupping his chin, making him meet her eyes.

"You're really gonna fight him, aren't you?" He noted the concern in her voice, but it didn't annoy him like it did with all the others.

"Yeah, I really am. So are you still gonna not go?" Harry looked at her, a sense of pleading in his eyes.

"I think I am."

"That's great. Really great." A smile crept up on Harry's face, one that filled his body with warmth as he looked at Blaise. He looked up towards the sky.

"It's still raining." He heard giggling and looked at Blaise, her hand covering her mouth trying to hold back her laughter. Harry's smile grew wider as he saw the joy in her eyes. Harry began to laugh with her, a true laugh of happiness._ It feels good to laugh. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like._

"HARRY!!!" He looked over his shoulder to see Ron and Hermione running at breakneck speed. He glanced over towards Blaise and saw that she was no longer laughing, instead wearing a cool mask of emotion.

"What's with the face?" A small smile let itself shine on Blaise's face.

"They call me Queen Frost at Hogwarts. I don't let anyone see my emotions, especially Gryffindor." Her eyes seemed to dance with laughter.

"And what about me? I'm a Gryffindor." Harry's smile was evident, expecting to hear a good answer.

"You're Harry Potter. You have traits of all the houses, but I'm not so sure about the Ravenclaw house, though." Harry began to chuckle at hearing her response.

"Thanks. It's good to know I am all things Hogwarts."

By this time Ron and Hermione had already reached him. The wide smiles that were on their faces quickly fell, as they saw Blaise in front of him. Hands automatically went to their wands, trained at Blaise. Harry stood up, as did Blaise, and he moved in front of her.

"Watch where you're pointing your wands." Harry had a slight edge to his voice.

"She's in Slytherin Harry. You can't trust her." Ron had his eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"And what does that mean?" Harry raised his wand in front of chest, parallel to his body.

"Harry, every witch or wizard that is in Slytherin tends to serve Vol…Voldemort. We're just being careful Harry." Hermione had a pleading edge to her voice, but her wand was still aimed at Blaise.

"Lower your wands." Harry spoke with fury in his voice.

"She could be working for You-know-who Harry!"

"Ron! I just saw her fight a death eater. I killed a death eater to save her life and she killed one to save mine! Just look around you and you'll see their bodies!" Harry had broken his calm exterior, anger flooding his senses, appalled at how narrow-minded his friends were.

He saw their heads turn to look at the bodies of Lucious Malfoy and an unknown death eater in Voldemort's forces. He saw shock register on their faces and their heads quickly snapped to look at him. Ron had his mouth open, seemingly unable to breathe. Hermione had her hand covering her mouth, sorrow on her face.

"Oh Harry, you really didn't kill them…did you?" Harry let loose a heavy sigh, his eyes cast downward.

"Yeah, I killed one." Harry's head flickered over to the unknown death eater, "that one right there. He was about to kill Blaise here and I killed him before he had a chance. Malfoy came up behind me and she killed him before he could finish the killing curse."

"Oh Harry…how could you kill them?" Harry's head snapped up at hearing Hermione again.

"I didn't plan on killing them! I just cast the first spell that came to my mind!" Harry sighed as he attempted to rein in his anger. His hand was clenched around his wand, the knuckles white from gripping so tightly. "I don't like the fact that I killed somebody, okay Hermione. I'm tired of seeing death in front of me, but it happened. All I can do is move on to the next fight and hope this doesn't happen again. There's only one person I have to kill and that's Voldemort."

Harry turned around, facing Blaise, a small smile playing on her lips.

"You should get going before my friends decide to hex you in my best interest."

"I don't need your help Potter." He saw her eyes laughing, the smile growing wider.

"You're welcome." He grinned and watched her disapparate from his vision.

Harry turned around and strode past his friends, taking joy in their faces that were lined with shock. He continued to walk towards a gathering in the middle of the alley. As he grew closer he saw the faces of the order, admiration shining on their faces.

"Hey Moony, how you doing?" He saw a smile forming on Remus's face

"Just fine, cub. This splendid person has been keeping watch over me." He extended a hand towards Tonks and stroked her cheek with his fingers. She leaned into his touch and gave him a warm smile.

"Thanks Tonks for taking care of him. I don't think I could lose another family member." Remus turned towards Harry, a shocked look on his face. He quickly gave him a smile and a slow nod.

"Don't worry Harry. I'll never stop taking care of this wolf." Tonks gave a slight chuckle at seeing Remus turn a light shade of pink; Tonks changed the color of her hair to match his face.

"Okay then, I'm gonna start heading back to the Dursley's"

"How come you're going back there Harry?"

"Well Tonks, seeing as how I have no place to go, McGonagall wants to see me on the first day of Hogwarts, and the fact that the Dursley's basically haven't talked to me all summer, it seems like an okay place to stay for a couple of more days."

"But the wards on your house Harry…"

"Don't worry Remus. There haven't been any Death eaters that have shown up at Privet Drive ever since the wards went down on my birthday, which I just plain forgot and I am pretty sure that the Order is still watching my house." Seeing the sheepish smiles on Remus and Tonks was all the confirmation he needed._ Seems like they're still keeping an eye on me._

Harry began walking towards the exit of Diagon Alley, leading towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Harry, hold on. One of the Order members will apparate you home."

"No thanks Remus. I've had as about as much magic as I could handle for today. I took the muggle bus to get here, I can take the muggle bus to get back."

"But Harry, You-know-who will surely be looking for you, now that you just seriously maimed one of his inner circle members and foiled his attack on Diagon Alley." Tonks looked away from Remus to shoot a concerned glance at Harry.

"I'm pretty sure Voldemort is licking his wounds right now, so I don't think he'll bother with attacking any time soon." Harry picked up his pace once again, but stopped when he heard Mad-Eye's voice.

"Good job, Potter. Voldemort will certainly have trouble when you fight him."

"How many deaths were there today?"

"Five dead, thirty-three wounded, and sixteen death eaters captured."

"For the death eaters I think we should see if we can get any information out of them. If they don't and pledge their unending loyalty to Voldemort…," Harry stared hard at Moody attempting to gauge what his reaction would be, "kill them"

He saw Moody's eyes widen in shock and heard collective gasps coming from the order and his friends who had just caught up. He heard Hermione speak up.

"Harry…you don't mean that do you? We can't just kill them?"

"Hermione we know we just can't put them in Azkaban, with no dementors we can't guard the prisoners. Also Voldemort would just bust them out anyway. We just can't have any of his death eaters going back to them. This is war Hermione and in war people die. I've already told you, I don't like to see people die, but we have to kill them so they can't kill any more innocent people. Understand?" Harry turned his eyes back to Moody and saw him nodding his head in approval.

"Now you're starting to get a head on your shoulders."

"Thanks Moody."

"Alastor, Harry. The name's Alastor." A small smile crept up on the marred features of Moody's face.

"I think that's becoming a running theme for the day." With a wave Harry trudged through Diagon Alley, taking sidelong glances of the destruction along the way.

He never heard the sound of someone apparating nor saw the swish of a black cloak as it vanished into the air.

**Author's Notes: **There you go! The battle has been finished! I hope you guys at least accept the idea as to why they didn't recognize each other. You know as they say, the eyes are the windows to the soul. For those people that hated Lucious, I hope you liked how he died. If I went overboard on the descriptions or the blood that was in here, let me know and I'll see if I can tone it down a little.

The next chapter is gonna come up in a while and I'm pretty sure you can guess what is gonna happen in that chapter. Let's just say, it's gonna be a real interesting day for the new school year. So I leave you with that and don't forget about the button in the lower-left corner!


	5. Voldemort's Fury Pt1

**King and Queen; Stone and Snow**

**A/N: I am back from my long absence of this story. No this story will not be abandoned. Just had stupid writer's block. Hope you enjoy. There's an explanation at the bottom for why this chapter is short.**

**(Voldemort's castle, unknown)**

Voldemort sat on his throne, made of bones that gleamed in the light. Raised on a dais, Voldemort sat, awaiting news of the battle. His fingers drummed impatiently on the armchair. Long and skeletal in appearance, with sharp nails, his hands resembled claws, an irritable scratching noise resounded throughout the chamber as his he continued to drum his fingers. His head was propped up on his other hand, his posture, making him seem docile, impatient, but it was frightening nonetheless. His lips were set in a sickly sneer, his blood red eyes, shining malevolently in the shadows of his hood. He raised his head as the doors to the chamber were thrown open, the great wooden doors banging against the obsidian stone. A servant, his face hidden behind the white mask, came rushing forth. Reaching his master's feet, he bowed and kissed the hem of his robe.

"Speak." Voldemort's voice was as cold as ice and as sharp as a blade. The servant quivered in his place and spoke in a voice echoing his fear, "My lord, we were met with resistance."

Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously. He slammed his fists on the arms of the chair and leaned forward in threatening manner, "Who?"

The servant raised his head, his muddy brown eyes, staring into the crimson of his lord. He gulped audibly and spoke in a frightened whisper, "P-Potter"

Voldemort's hand closed around the death eater's throat and raised him off the floor. Sputtering and gasping for breath, he spoke again," He…h-he…att…attacked…us out…of no…nowhere…" Spittle flew from his mouth as his face turned a light shade of blue, "He fought…Bellatrix…my lord…"

Voldemort tightened his grip, causing the death eater to turn a shade of purple, "She's…in the…infir…mary…my lord…in…injured…" The death eater's feet flailed about in the air as his life was choked out of him. With a flick of his wand, Voldemort cast the body to the wall, a sickening crack heard as the corpse's head hit the wall. With a hurried and determined pace, Voldemort set out for the infirmary, robes billowing behind him.

**(Leaky Cauldron, London)**

Harry walked out of Diagon Alley, his bones weary, caked blood on his clothes and skin. Entering the Leaky Cauldron, he saw Tom cowering behind the bar, his wand pointed aimlessly in the air.

"It's allright Tom. They're gone." His voice was hoarse, tired. _I could really use a butterbeer._ He watched as Tom slowly made his way from the counter, his wand still held in his hand, eyes searching the room. _I wonder if he's good at magic._ He found the business end of Tom's wand pointed at his nose. Harry raised an eyebrow and lifted the bangs from his forehead, revealing his scar. Tom hastily lowered his wand and started apologizing profusely, blushing and stuttering. Harry shook his head and walked over to the bar.

Tom went back to the other side and pulled out a butterbeer from under the counter, "You're a mind reader Tom." Harry fished out a sickle from his pockets and put it on the counter. Grabbing his butterbeer, popping the top, raising it to his lips, he took a long swig of the cooling drink.

"What exactly…happened, Mr. Potter?" Harry put the drink down with an audible sigh. He raised his head and looked at Tom, "There people out there that saw more than me." Finishing off his drink, Harry stood and walked to the door. Stopping in front of it, he looked over his clothes, finally noticing the dust, dirt, and blood._ I'm really gonna draw attention on the bus. Like I need anymore._ Pointing his wand at his clothes he whispered, "scourigify." He walked out the door, with clean clothes, into muggle London. Rain drops fell on his head as he walked towards the bus stop. When it arrived he got on, never noticing the black cloak that continued to follow him.

**(Blaise's Flat, Downtown London)**

Blaise stepped into her apartment with a pop. She threw down her umbrella, which was hardly recognizable, and shrugged off her blouse, useless now that it was ripped so badly. She started walking to her bathroom, shrugging off her skirt, shoes and socks._ Potter owes me some new clothes._ She stepped into the shower and let the heat of the water soothe her aching body._ Two showers in one day. I don't even want to look at the water bill._ She sighed as she stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around herself, she flopped onto her bed, yawning slightly as she crept under the comforter.

She replayed the battle over again in her head, realizing how close she had come to biting the dust. But the part that she was playing the most attention to was her talk with Potter or more specifically just Potter himself. From when she first saw him when he got off the bus to when she found out who he was._ He looked so…different._ She grabbed her stuffed toy, a vampire teddy bear complete with cloak and fangs, and brought it close to her chest. She dozed off, thinking of sparkling green eyes and raven hair.

**(Voldemort's Castle, unknown)**

Voldemort stepped into the infirmary, black robes billowing as he moved rapidly across the floor, crimson eyes blazing as he took on the scene before him. He stood at Bella's side, seething with anger as he looked over her marred body. He saw the numerous gashes that littered her body, the large opening of her flesh from her hip to her shoulder, but he took special note of her face. The nose, shattered, broken most likely; dirt, covering her pale and beautiful face; eyes, haunted, but with a smile in them even in her death; her jaw, completely gone, the tongue hanging to the side, her blood filling up her mouth. Voldemort slowly turned his head to look at the healer that was standing opposite him. He saw the healer cringe back in fear, but there was no pleasure from it this time. "Explain," speaking with fury on the edge of his voice, Voldemort narrowed the slits of his eyes, waiting for an answer.

"It seems…that she apparated in within the final moments of the battle. She had numerous injuries, many which were bleeding heavily…she died of blood loss milord." The healer spoke with uncertainty and fear in his voice as he took careful note of his lord's fury.

Voldemort craned his neck, snarling as he spoke, "You!" He pointed at a death eater and with a wandless accio, brought him over to where he was standing. Voldemort clamped his hand around the death eater's jaw, "bring one of the muggle slaves to my chamber. Female, at least over twenty, no less than thirty years old. Is this understood?" He tightened his grip, drinking in the pained whimper. The death eater nodded his head, causing him to be released from the painful grasp. He took off in a hurry towards the dungeons.

Voldemort ran his hand over Bella's face in a loving way. He hooked one arm under her legs and the other under her back. With a swish of his robes, he began to walk towards his personal chambers. On his way over there, he was planning his revenge on the person who did this. _He will pay for doing this to my Bella. Potter, you will pay!!!_

**A/N: I am immensely sorry that I have neglected this story for so long. I had a massive case of writer's block, but now I know exactly what I wanna do. If you guys think this chapter is too short, don't worry. I wanted to cut off here to leave you stewing in your thoughts about what Voldemort could possibly do. I WILL be updating later on in the day or within the next day. This I swear to you on my life and magic. So mote it be.**


	6. Voldemort's Fury Pt2

**King and Queen; Stone and Snow **

**A/N: sorry about the delay. I know I promised I was gonna upload real soon, but FF decided to be a little frustrating and was giving me uploading problems. Well now that the problem has been taken care of, I now present to you the next chapter. Oh and a warning, there is sadistic gore in this piece, so for those of you who are squeamish, I greatly suggest that you might not want to read, but if you don't you'll miss out on a great read. Also, get ready to hate me or love me by the end of this chapter. **

**(The Burrow, St. Ottery Catchpole's) **

Ron and Hermione were flooed over to the Burrow, accompanied by several order members, once the battle was done and the floo system was back online. As soon as they tumbled out, they were swept up into one of Molly's "I love you so much and I'm so glad you're alive" hugs. After what seemed like an hour, but was in fact only several seconds, Ron and Hermione were released from the patented death-grip and were looked over.

Molly screamed as she saw the numerous cuts littered over their bodies, but was thankful to Merlin that they were only small ones and nothing too large. She gave a loud gasp as she saw the state of their clothes; dust, dirt, rubble on the shoulders, torn sleeves and skirts/pants.

"We're okay Mum. Everything's fine." Ron sagged his shoulders as he moved away from his mother and sat down in the kitchen. He put his arms on the table and cushioned his head on them.

Hermione moved to sit down next to Ron, but still sat up straight even though there was a weary air about her, "Yes Mrs. Weasley, everything's okay. None of us are hurt too badly."

Mrs. Weasley let out a relieved sigh, once her worst fears were confirmed to not be true. She was going to start to make some tea, but saw that one of them was missing. Immediately a cold fear gripped her heart, "Where's Harry?" She saw Ron and Hermione give each other glances and the icy grip on her heart only tightened. _Oh no he's dead. I can't believe that I won't be able to apologize for those horrid things I said to him. Oh, I'm such a terrible person._

"He's fine, Mum. He's just bloody terrific" Ron had a sour expression set on his face as he said this, but his face paled as his mother started shouting at the top of her lungs.

"IF HE WAS FINE, THEN HE WOULD BE HERE!!!" Arthur came into the kitchen and tried to calm down his wife, but she would have none of it, "ARTHUR, GO AND BRING BACK HARRY THIS INSTANT!!"

Arthur kept trying to placate his wife and tried to have her sit in a chair, "He really is okay. He just went to…" he didn't get a chance to say any further as his youngest daughter came running down the stairs. He saw her look from Hermione to Ron with relieved looks, but when she didn't see one raven-haired boy, she started to panic and clutched at her heart, "He's allright Ginny. He's just at Privet Drive with the Dursely's."

Molly jumped out of the chair that Arthur had managed to get her into and shrugged off his hands that were on her shoulders. She stood up to her full height and pointed a finger at her husband, "HE WOULD NEVER GO BACK TO THOSE FILTHY MUGGLES WHEN HE HAS THE CHOICE TO COME HERE! ARTHUR, TELL ME THE TRUTH!!"

"He really is allright Mrs. Weasley. We talked to him just after all the death eaters were captured or…killed." Hermione looked down at this point as she remembered Harry's last words and coincidentally their argument. _Why couldn't he just see that we were looking out for him?_

Molly looked at Hermione and immediately recognized the face that she was making. She was guilty about something and Molly was going to find out, "What did you talk about?" She saw Hermione look to Ron and Molly quickly focused her burning gaze onto Ron.

"We didn't do anything, honestly! We were just trying to help him!" Ron started waving his arms about as he grew red in the face, "He was talking to a Slytherin. A bloody Slytherin! And then we try to protect him from her, he gets mad at us! Then he blows up at 'Mione when she told him that killing is wrong!" Ron gave a grunt of frustration and slumped back down in his chair, arms crossed and that sour expression back on his face.

Molly went pale as she soaked in what her son just told her. Piecing it up with what Hermione said about some death eaters being killed, she sat back down in the chair, "Harry killed someone…no, it can't be true…Harry wouldn't kill anyone," she vaguely heard Ginny pull up a chair and ask the same question.

Arthur came up to Molly and put a hand on her shoulder, "He did kill someone Molly," he heard her sharp intake of breath, but he plowed on, "but from what I saw, it looked like he was trying to save someone"

"But Mr. Weasley, Harry still killed someone…even if it was to save someone…he still killed someone…" Hermione looked towards the ground, lost in thought.

Mr. Weasley sighed as he saw all the expressions at the table, all of them showing the same thing; sadness. He didn't know if it was for Harry that he killed someone, or something else entirely, but he wouldn't try to change their minds, that was for Harry to do if he was willing, "Well the important thing is that Harry is alive. Besides we shouldn't judge him for what he did. He did save someone's life. It could have easily been any one of yours or mine." He paused to see the effect his words had on them, barely noticing any change in all of them. He sighed, "Anyway, you two…" he pointed at Ron and Hermione, "go get cleaned up."

Ron, Hermione and Ginny all went up the stairs, breaking into hushed whispers as soon as they were out of sight.

"I still can't believe that Harry would kill someone…and then the way he acted about it…like it was nothing." Tears started to form in Hermione's eyes as she went over the implications of how Harry was acting. That was he was cold to practically everybody at the beginning of the trip, his killing the death eater, and his association with that Slytherin girl. She gasped, "You don't…think that something is happening to Harry…do you?"

"I don't know Hermione. I mean did you see how he basically just shoved us aside so he can talk to that Slytherin?" Ron shook his head in frustration. _What's wrong with you Harry? _

Ginny looked from Ron to Hermione and finally asked the question that has been plaguing her mind, "Which Slytherin was Harry talking to?"

Hermione went into teacher mode, as if reciting information from a book, "Blaise Zabini, seventh year, Slytherin, has potions class, DADA class, and Transfiguration class with Harry. Also one of the top students in our year…"

Ginny tuned out the rest of the information, seeing as how Hermione wouldn't tell her what she looks like and the other info about being in the top of classes was useless. _ I won't have some Slytherin hussy moving in on my boyfriend!_

**(Muggle bus heading to Surrey) **

Harry was sitting in the far back of the bus, so no one would come bother him. He kept his eyes glued to the window, watching the passing scenery of busy streets, tall buildings, and a swarm of people passing the street. _I'm so bloody tired._ He closed his eyes in an attempt to gain some rest before his stop. If he had kept them open, he would have seen a man sit four seats away from him, close enough to watch him, but not close enough to raise suspicion. If he had kept his eyes open, he would have seen this person's eye color change from a dull brown to a piercing gray, before taking a drink out of a flask.

**(Voldemort's Castle, unknown location) **

Voldemort laid Bella down gently onto a cold slab of stone that was situated in the middle of his personal chambers. On the table of stone, were runes of various languages spelled across its entirety. On the floor, a large circle with a pentagram inside, circled the stone slab, with runes etched on the edges of the circle. He turned his head to see the death eater from before with a muggle slave in tow, "Leave the wench and get out." The death eater looked confused for a moment, but did as he was told and ran out the door on swift feet.

Voldemort looked closely over the muggle, taking amusement in her obvious fear. She looked to be about 22-23 years of age, with long blond hair that had still retained its beauty. Her form was flattering and were she a witch, Voldemort might have considered keeping her alive, but she was not. She was a muggle, scum beneath his feet; she was a vicious and vile creature of her race, who killed for no reason at all; so very much unlike him. Her death would serve a purpose. He crooked a finger and beckoned her towards him and when she did not move he lazily waved his hand and summoned her to him. Grasping her chin in his hand, he spoke barely above a whisper, "Do you fear me, muggle?" He watched in growing hunger as her eyes widened as she looked upon his face, "Would you like to get away from here?" He saw her eyes widen again and she nodded as much as she possibly could, "Very well, you shall have your wish." She looked relieved, but it instantly turned to fear as she was chained up to another slab, identical to the one that Bella was currently on.

"You…you…said you…would let…me go…" Her body racked with sobs as she was chained up. She tried to escape her chains, but her attempts were futile. She turned to look over towards the creature that had lied to her.

"I did not lie to you muggle. You said that you wanted to get away from here and so you shall. You just never said where here is exactly, so I took it upon myself to infer that you wanted to escape from life." Voldemort grinned maliciously as the muggle tried even harder to escape and was shouting promises of sex and loyalty if only she could live. He raised a scalpel from a nearby table and raised it to her face, "Don't fret my dear. I can assure you this won't hurt at all…well it won't hurt me at all." He drank in the fear that he had struck in her and laughed maliciously. He slowly cut from one side of her lips to one side of her jaw and then repeated the process on the other side. Her pained screams echoed throughout his chambers as she was viciously cut. With the cut complete, Voldemort put his hand into her mouth and slowly pulled out her jaw. He watched with sadistic glee as her body flailed about for a minute longer before finally seizing up.

"My precious Bella, you shall live again." He placed the new jaw onto Bella's face and used several spells to make sure it was in place perfectly and aligned with the rest. He looked over her body, seeing how pale and marred it was. He looked over to the muggle and decided to use all he could. He pointed his wand at her and used the flesh-peeling curse. He repeated the same to Bella and swapped their skins; he tightened it and lengthened it in the appropriate places. With everything in place, Voldemort made a large vertical incision over Bella's heart.

Placing his hand inside, Voldemort soon located her heart. He called upon his magic deep from within in his core. He twisted and shaped it until it fit the needs of his necromantic magic. Dark coils of energy seeped from his fingers and wound tightly around Bella's heart. With a chanting of ancient Sumerian, Voldemort squeezed Bella's heart three times, each time imbedding some dark magic within her, each time causing Bella's body to jump. After the third time, Voldemort pulled out his hand and sealed up the incision. He made a cut over his heart and slowly dabbed his fingers in a mixture of his and her blood. He moved his hand to Bella's head and with great care drew the Sumerian runes for Death, Rebirth, and Life across her forehead.

He then raised his hands above Bella's body, palms facing downwards. Invoking the second part of the ritual, dark flames enshrouded his hands and slowly fell down onto Bella's body. Each point of impact darkening the skin for a moment before it resumed Bella's pale color. Slowly the flames rose up; lifting her body up as well and a great bolt of dark energy hit Bella in the center of her body, the resounding crack of energy sounding throughout the entire castle. The flames lowered Bella back to the stone tablet, vanishing away and with that Bellatrix Lestrange, opened her violet eyes once again.

"Welcome back Bella."

**A/N: There you go ladies and gentleman! For those of you who thought Bella was dead, you guessed wrong. I've always, always thought that Voldemort had something for Bella. Not love, but certainly lust. He was a handsome man, she was a beautiful woman, they were both sadistic, what's not to lust? **

**Sorry for the Blaise fans if I disappointed you by not putting a scene for her in here. She'll feature heavily in the next chapter though so don't worry. On that note, any ideas for names for her stuffed vampire teddy bear? **


	7. Interlude

**King and Queen; Stone and Snow**

**Chapter 7: Interlude pt.1**

**A/N: Sorry I took a while folks, just making sure that I set up what's happening to Harry without making it to confusing and/or short with no explanation. And for those Blaise fans, here she is back again. And thanks to Lycanarus for giving me permission to use the oh so super fantastic name of…Nosbearatu for Blaise's vampire teddy bear. And without further ado, the next chapter.**

**(Surrey, London)**

Harry stepped off the bus, stumbling slightly down the steps. His vision was blurry, even with his glasses on. Placing his hand on a nearby pole to steady himself, Harry waited until the wave of dizziness passed. _What in the bloody hell is wrong with me?_ Harry started taking in deep and heavy breaths. The bout of dizziness passing, he started walking towards Privet Drive.

Every few steps he would have to stop and steady himself, take deep, steady breaths. He was so focused on keeping himself from falling that he never noticed the suspicious nature of the person behind him. And the person was so inept at following him, that it was a wonder he didn't get caught; turning his head away and appearing to inspect something at every time that Harry stopped; it was utterly laughable, but due to Harry's weariness and negligence of his surroundings, he was still undetected.

Harry stepped up to Privet Drive, noting that the curtains were closed. He tried to turn the handle, but it merely jiggled and the door did not swing inwards. He tried again and again the door refused to budge. This would have deterred him earlier in life, but he had taken measures to deal with this. Pulling out a key that he had in his jeans front pocket—a key which he had taken from Dudley, while he was sleeping in a drunken haze, and had made a copy of it before placing it back—and tried to put it in the key slot. He missed however, and tried again. Missing once more, Harry kept trying and trying; each failure leading to him cursing with some several in Latin (picked up from one of his spell books).

Splaying his palms on the door, Harry leaned his weight against it, calming himself. _What the hell is wrong with me? I can't even get this ruddy door open._ He took hold of the key again and slowly moved it towards the key slot. Finally slipping it in, he turned the key and then the handle, opening the door. Congratulating himself mentally, he stepped inside, the sound of the closing door covering the pop of apparition.

**(Voldemort's castle, unknown)**

She felt like she was being born again; her lungs drawing in deep, raspy breaths as she tried to inhale the dank air around her; her eyes, watering from the harsh light that played on them, even though the room was dim; her muscles, stagnant and heavy, pain flaring slightly as she tried to move them; she vaguely heard somebody muttering something, but her ears were unaccustomed to sound; she felt her mouth being pried open with a gentle touch that held an underlying tone of steel beneath it; She felt a cool liquid being poured down her throat, noticing that it tasted something like…_strawberries…_; she felt the painful sensations sliding away, her weariness and fatigue being carried out in the wake of the potion.

Then just as soon as the pain vanished, it came back in a rush of blazing fire. It felt like the Cruciatis…_crucio_..., but ten times worse; hot knives digging and grinding into the bone; liquid fire burning through her blood, searing the insides; every touch on the cold stone underneath her bringing on more pain as if the stone was peeling away at her skin.

She moaned wantonly at the pain; it was sadistic, but it was pleasure on such a carnal level that it spoke to her dark nature. Then as if in response to her moan of pleasure, she felt someone's lips crash down hungrily against hers. She tasted the metallic copper of her blood as the person kissed her roughly, biting and bruising her lips. She moaned heatedly and wrapped her arms around the person's neck and brought them closer to her, eager for physical contact.

She felt a tongue roughly shoving past her lips, not even seeking permission. She vainly tried to put up a defense, but was shoved as the tongue raked hers in a painful manner, making her moan wantonly again. The kiss ended too soon for her taste. Opening her eyes she stared into the blood red of her lord, "My lord…I remember…I remember all of it…," she paused to gain her breath, "he killed me…Potter killed me…"

Voldemort grinned maliciously as he looked into her violet eyes, "He did my sweet Bella. But I, Lord Voldemort, brought you back." He extended his hand over towards the other slab of black stone.

Bella saw the flayed skin of the body, the horror in the girl's eyes, and the lack of a jaw. She raised her hands to her face and noticed that her face was whole, unmarred by wounds, and that she had no open mouth. She raised her hands to her eyes and saw no creases, no lines of age on them. She touched her face again and felt the smoothness of her skin. Running her hands down her body, Bella shivered in pleasure as she felt that she was young again. She brought her hands to the chest of her lord and roughly dragged them across his skin. She put her face to his chest and slowly licked upwards to his lips, "How can I ever repay my master?"

Smiling lustfully, Voldemort waved his wand at the doors blackened wood. After placing wards to ensure that none would bother him for several hours, he slammed Bella back down onto the cold slab of stone and kissed her hungrily.

**(The Burrow, St. Ottery Catchpole, the next day)**

Ginny Weasley came down the stairs, straight from her room. She walked over to her mom, tapping her on the shoulder. Seeing her mother give her a smile, Ginny twirled about, showing off her clothes to her mother, "Do you think Harry will like it?"

Molly looked over her daughter, noticing that she was now a grown woman. From the red sweater that accentuated her bust, to her jeans that portrayed her womanly figure, she could see how much her daughter had grown. She ran her fingers through Ginerva's hair, making sure that it was silky smooth. Placing a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead, she pulled back and smiled at her, "He'll love it, dear."

Ginny smiled brightly, "Are you sure he's gonna be at Diagon Alley today? With only one day before school, I still don't think that the Alley has been fixed up in time."

"He'll be there my dear. He couldn't get any of his school things yesterday…well with the fight…and your father told me that the ministry sent everybody they had to fix up the alley. You poor father is sleeping upstairs, he's so tired. He didn't come home until an hour ago." With that Molly turned back to the stove and continued making breakfast.

Ginny moved to the table and sat down, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. Hearing somebody coming down the stairs, she lifted her head to see Hermione coming down to sit across from her, "What's the special occasion Hermione?"

Hermione looked down to see her clothes and then looked back up at Ginny, "What can you possibly mean?"

Ginny laughed and pointed at Hermione's clothes, "Let's see; you're wearing a chocolate brown sweater with two of the buttons open, revealing just a little bit of the twins; dark blue jeans that are hugging your hips; you've even tamed your hair…and is that make-up you're wearing?" Ginny's smirk widened as a faint blush crept up Hermione's cheeks, "Looks like somebody is trying to get someone's attention."

Hermione fought down the blush that was trying to surface, coolly drank the coffee that Mrs. Weasley had set down for her, and replied in turn, "And what about you Ginny? Trying to seduce a certain person with green eyes?" Ginny just smirked.

Hearing the heavy clomping of someone coming down the stairs, Hermione turned her head only to wish that she hadn't, as that damn blush started to come up again. She saw Ron coming down, his hand lazily run through his long, shaggy red hair. _I wonder if it's smooth…oh, stop thinking about his hair._ She could see his naked arms as he wore a dark blue muscle tee, blue jeans hanging slightly off one hip, and a pair of flip-flops completing the laidback image that only Ron could pull off. Plunking down in the seat next to her, Hermione turned around to see that infuriating smirk still plastered on Ginny's face. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione looked at Ron. _Oh why does he have to wear those clothes? And why, can't he sit somewhere else…I can smell his scent…it's so…_Hermione cut off her train of thought before it could lead to any images.

"Morning everyone…" Ron yawned and then leaned his head back against the chair, unconsciously baring his neck to Hermione, which only added fuel to the fire in her belly.

"Ronald Weasley! You are not going to Diagon Alley in that attire. It is cold outside and the Wizard Wireless said there is a chance for rain and I don't want you catching a cold the day before Hogwarts. Now go back upstairs and change…and what is that on your chin?!" Molly pointed her lade at the stubble of chin hair Ron was currently sporting.

Ron's ears slowly started to turn red, "Bill said…that I should…grow out a beard…or a goatee," Ron gulped audibly, "and I like it…so I'm gonna keep it." Ron held his breath waiting for the explosion that was sure to come.

"As long as you are under my roof, you will not have any beards, earrings, or anything else. Do you understand?! And you're not getting any breakfast until that hair on your chin is gone." Ron's eyes widened at the last statement and looked longingly at the food.

Hermione in her opinion, agreed with Mrs. Weasley. She really didn't like facial hair on men; especially if it was on the upper lip or on his chin, it would bother her too much if she would want to kiss him. With another blush rising to her cheeks, Hermione took out her wand and vanished away the stubble. She tentatively raised her hand to his face and ran her delicate fingers along his jaw and chin, making sure all the hair was gone. With an even fiercer blush, she retraced her hand and slid over a plate of food towards Ron.

Molly went back to the stove after giving Hermione a grateful smile. Ginny kicked Hermione in the leg to get her attention and then made smooching sounds at her, causing Hermione's blush to creep down her neck. Ron was oblivious to it all and kept eating, his hand occasionally straying to touch the spot where Hermione's hand had been.

**(Blaise's Flat, Downtown London)**

Blaise opened her eyes to see some sun shining through the window. Turning over and snuggling into Nosbearatu (her vampire teddy bear, complete with cloak and fangs), Blaise tried to go back to sleep.

Ten minutes later found Blaise in the shower, muttering under her breath, cursing the sun for making her wake up. _Please, oh please, let it rain today._ Lathering a wash towel with soap, Blaise ran it over her body, glad to see that her cuts and bruises were gone. _Thank Merlin for my good genes._ Wrapping a fluffy towel around herself, she stepped out back into her bedroom, rummaging through her closet for clothes.

Some time later, Blaise stood in front of the door, checking over her appearance in a nearby mirror. Wearing black denim jeans that flared out at the bottom, a purple shirt with sleeves up to her forearms, and a black scarf wrapped around her neck, Blaise deemed herself ready to go. Opening the door, Blaise expected to see the blaring sun, but instead saw dark clouds. She smile widely and clapped, turning back to her house and grabbing an umbrella, laughing as she closed the door. _Sun, sun, go away. Sun, sun, don't bother me today._

**(Privet Drive, Surrey, London)**

Harry woke up, clutching his head in pain, groaning at the little pound of a headache that just wouldn't go away. He felt Hedwig land next to him and start poking at his head, "Hedwig, please don't do that. My head hurts and you're pecking is not helping." He heard her give him somewhat of an apologetic hoot and nuzzled his cheek fondly, "Thanks girl, you always understand when to give me space."

Managing to take his hands away from his head, Harry looked around the room, hands searching for his bath towel. Finding it, he went outside of his room and trudged along to the shower down the hall, managing to beat out the whale of a blob known as Dudley. With the water running down his body, Harry gasped at the sight. No wounds, no bruises, his legs for all purposes felt fine. He looked at his right elbow, right where the bone had broken through the skin and saw that the flesh was smooth. Aside from an odd tingling sensation, he felt perfectly fine._ This is just too weird for me to think about. _

Turning off the water and wrapping the towel around his waist, Harry slapped his forehead. _Damn it…forgot the clothes._ He peeked out the door to make sure that no one was currently looking. Creeping out the door, he ran like the wind to get to his room and managed to slip inside without anyone spotting him. He heard something that sounded like laughter and turned to see Hedwig doing a pretty damn good impression of laughing. With a mock glare, he started looking for some clothes and saw that all of Dudley's cast offs were already worn, dirty, or ripped. Grimacing, Harry looked to the loose floorboard under his bed. Tonks had gotten him some clothes for his birthday, but they weren't necessarily his style. For one thing they were too form-fitting._ Too damn bloody tight is more like it._ However with nothing else to wear, having conveniently forgotten that he could clean his clothes with a scourigify, He pried the floorboard open and pulled out a square shaped black box with an emerald ribbon wrapped around it.

With no other viable options, again forgetting about his wand, and took out the clothes. The first to come out was an emerald green sleeveless shirt that Tonks thought would bring out the color of his eyes. On the front of it was the head of a dragon, its mouth open with rows and rows of sharp teeth glistening slightly, the body of the dragon wrapped around the shoulders, with the tail pooling on the back of the shirt. Next came a pair of black pants, dragon hide leather by the looks of it. _Only Tonks would get me clothes that are unbelievably tight. Thank Merlin, she didn't get me any underwear._

Harry put on the clothes and was surprised that they didn't feel tight. In fact, they were probably the most comfortable clothes he had ever worn._ I guess they're all right. _Strapping on a wand-holster that went up on his forearm, a gift from Remus, Harry slipped in his wand and watched as the wand-holster turned invisible. With a quick flick of his wrist, the wand shot into his hand. Slipping it back in, Harry grabbed some galleons that he had left on the counter and slipped them in his left pocket.

Harry went out and stepped down the stairs and was just about to step out the door when he heard that nasal screeching of his Aunt, "What are you wearing?! The neighbors will talk!" Harry turned to see Petunia, arms crossed over her chest, heaving with anger. Her face blotched with red, her beady little eyes focused on him. He sighed heavily, "Two more days, Aunt Petunia, two more bloody days and then we never have to talk again. Today and tomorrow morning, that's all that's left."

"It doesn't matter how many days are left. Even after you are gone, the neighbors will still talk and remember you and your clothes and your hair and how you lived in this house. They will remember that you lived with us, that we raised you and that in their eyes you turned out this way."

Harry leaned back against the door, his posture mimicking his Aunt's with his arms crossed over his chest. He slowly raised his head, opening his eyes, letting the emerald of his mother's bore into black ones across from him, "Why does this matter so much to you? Why does their opinion of you matter more to you than my opinion of you?"

Petunia looked as if she had physically been slapped, but she quickly recovered, "You wouldn't understand. You could never understand."

"Then explain to me. Explain to me why, for seventeen years you never gave a damn of what I thought. It was always about the neighbors and how they would talk. Explain to me why their opinion matters so much to you."

Petunia narrowed her eyes and walked away. Harry thinking that the confrontation was over was about to open the door, but he saw that she came back, cradling a picture frame. She thrust it towards him and his jaw dropped in shock. It was a picture of her and his mom, along with their parents. The picture was easily thirty years old; Aunt Petunia couldn't have been more than seven at the time. They were sitting on a park bench, all of them with wide smiles and their arms wrapped around each other.

"When we were younger, we were all one happy family. We all loved each other and there were no problems. That all changed when we found out that we had a witch in the family. Our parents were so bloody proud of her that they started paying less attention to me. It felt like I was forgotten. Lily tried to talk to me, but it made it worse that her, the cause of all this, was giving me pity. This is why the opinion of the neighbors is important. They recognize me, they acknowledge me and I won't have my image shattered due to you. I won't go back to being ignored"

Harry looked up at his Aunt and saw that there was something akin to sadness in her eyes, "I really don't know what to tell you Aunt Petunia…"

"Then don't!"

Harry opened the door and stopped with his foot outside the door, "but I don't think they meant to do that to you. And you've dealt with that for seven or eight years until you left…but I've dealt with it for all my life. You and your family have constantly ignored me, not once did you show any kind of love towards me. Not once. So you may say that I don't understand, but I do, all too well." With that he stepped outside the door and closed it gently. Leaning against the door, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Sickle for your thoughts?"

In less than a second, Harry had his wand out, pointing it at where he heard the sound. He saw the shimmering fabric of an invisibility cloak falling down and saw a head of pink hair, "Wotcher Harry. Quite the reflexes you have there"

"Hey Tonks, how's Remus?" Harry put the wand back in its holster and looked around the area to see if anybody saw. He turned back to Tonks to see that she had put away the cloak.

"Oh he's fine. He's just really worried about you though. You did take quite the nasty fall yesterday, along with all the other stuff. So you all right there?"

He chuckled softly, "Yeah I'm fine. It was really odd though. I was taking a shower…"

"Ooooh…Harry in the shower. So Harry how well-equipped are you?"

Harry started to blush, but fought it down quickly and kept on with his story, "and I saw that I had no cuts at all and that my legs were fine. I don't even feel like anything's broken."

Tonks pouted at the fact that Harry wasn't gonna reveal any sensitive nature, "Well Harry, I don't know what to tell you. Medical mumbo jumbo isn't my nature. Just check with Madame Promfrey when you get back to Hogwarts." She just saw Harry shrug in response and decided to change the topic, "So you like your clothes Harry? If I wasn't tied to Remus, I'd have a go at you." She winked at Harry as he started to splutter and the blush came back up._ Score for me!_

Harry groaned and slapped his forehead again, "All of the other clothes I had…" he heard her scoff at that, "weren't wearable and this was I had." He looked at her to just see her smiling.

"Well do you like the clothes Harry?"

"They're…okay…I guess"

"Liar. I know you like them. Oh! And check your pockets. I left another birthday present for you."

With a wary glance at Tonks, Harry put his hand in his right packet and felt something plastic, small and square. He pulled it out and blushed when he saw it. He turned his head so fast at Tonks, you could hear the creak in his neck, "A condom! You bought me a condom Tonks!"

Tonks fell down onto the ground, rolling with laughter as she clutched her belly. This continued for sometime until she was able to get her breath back. Wiping away a few tears, Tonks looked at Harry with a goofy smile on her face, "With the way those clothes look on you, all the girls are going to be hounding after you. You might have needed a little protection. Now come over here and let's get you to Diagon Alley."

"No thank you. I'll take the muggle bus today and I'll take it back like I did yesterday. And would you take this bloody condom back?"

Tonks covered her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter, "Oh no Harry, I'm not taking that back. Remind me that Remus has to give you the talk. Bye, bye for now Harry. I'll meet up with you at Diagon Alley."

Harry was left standing outside Privet Drive, looking at the empty spot of grass where Tonks had just been, his mouth hanging open. Shaking his head, Harry put the condom back in his pocket and started walking towards the bus stop._ This is going to be a long day._

**A/N: Okay ladies and gentleman. This interlude will stretch two parts before Voldemort springs a little surprise on poor Harry. That's all I'm saying, but the fury thing gives a small hint about what he might do. Think like Voldemort and you can get it. So coming up next time, we have Blaise, Harry, and the rest of the gang interacting at Diagon Alley. And if I get a lot of reviews, I might have Blaise and Harry keep talking to each other after all their shopping is done and he might take her home. This all depends on you (maybe, muwahahahahaha)**


	8. Discoveries, Arguments, and Shopping

**King and Queen; Stone and Snow**

**A/N: My fellow Fanfictioneers!!! A thousand apologies for this chapter being overdue. For taking so long, I made this chapter super long(well longer than the norm). I had one review by Chi Vayne that suggested that I made my Voldemort super powerful. I didn't want to go into details in the story, so I'll explain it here. The necromancer ritual Voldie used can only be done when the caster has a strong connection with the target. This doesn't mean they have to love each other, they just have a strong connection, a primal need can work just fine. Also it has to be done within half an hour after the death of the victim. The spell does drain him, but it's effects occur throughout the week not all at once. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this segment. For the fans of Harry/Blaise, I really hope you enjoy their interactions. And now, on with the show.**

**Chapter Eight: Discoveries, Arguments, and Shopping**

Harry was sitting at the back of the bus, his feet drawn up and resting on a metal bar that was in front of him. His head was resting against the window pane to his left, his breath fogging the window lightly. He raised his hand, drawing one of the runes that Hermione had constantly worried about in her exam for ancient runes last year. It was the rune for freedom, something Harry had desperately wanted all his life. He had a small amount of freedom now that he was an adult in the wizarding world and that his stay at the Dursley's was at a close. _ Just one more night, then I can leave while they're asleep in the morning and I never have to see them again._

The memory of one of Hermione's and Ron's joint letters came to the front of his mind. They had wondered why he didn't leave the Dursley's; even Remus had questioned it in one of the small five minute visits. They thought that he would have automatically have wanted to leave them and go to the Burrow, but he didn't want to go back to the wizarding world yet. Too many things reminded him of Dumbledore, which led to thoughts of Sirius. Plus he had gotten a short letter from Dumbledore's portrait, via McGonagall, that said that the wards around the house were tied to the blood wards and that they could hold out for at least two months after his birthday, when the blood wards would vanish.

A small ringing noise brought him back to his senses, his hand discreetly making the maneuver to bring his wand into his hand. Hiding it from view, Harry looked around at his surrounding under the cover of his hair that fell into his face. His eyes caught a group of girls, one of them holding some sort of contraption to her ear._ Looks like a telephone. Oh, it's one of those things Dudley was bitching for, a…cell phone._ Harry wasn't familiar with muggle technology, seeing as how he basically went into exile each summer at the Dursley's.

He craned his neck, hearing slight cracks and pops as he stretched it out. His eyes turned to the girls again and he saw that two of them were looking at him. He inwardly groaned as he saw them turn back to each other and start giggling, their cheeks becoming flushed. He wanted to slap his head in stupidity for even looking at them, but that would only bring more attention to him._ I hate it when they giggle…well, almost all of them._

His thoughts strayed again to Blaise Zabini, for the second time today. The cold, recluse of Slytherin, whom he had hardly seen in his years at Hogwarts (hardly paid attention that is), was totally different from what he'd imagine of a Slytherin. First of all, she was in the muggle world when they first met and she seemed warm, inviting almost. Before they found out each other's name, they shared a comfortable silence between the two and when they did learn the other's name, they didn't start shouting at each other. He found it important to brush aside the fact that she was a Slytherin, for she had fought in the Alley against Death Eaters and she seemed nice before and after the battle, only growing cold when his friends acted rude to her.

He chuckled softly to himself as he remembered the laughter in her eyes as she was being rude to him, in order to preserve the cover of a cold Slytherin. Looking back at the scene, he found that it was rather funny to rile Ron and Hermione, but it really didn't help when he tried to tell them that just because she's a Slytherin that automatically guarantees she's evil. Sure, he had the same views as they did, that all Slytherins were evil gits, but he had time to reevaluate his ideas over the summer. Just because people were in a certain house, it doesn't mean that they will be exactly like the people that came out of their houses. Did everybody expect all Gryffindors to be on the light side? There was Peter Pettigrew. Just because you're a Hufflepuff, does it mean that you're weaker than the rest? There was Amelia Bones and she was the head of the DLME. The examples went on and on his head and he came to the conclusion that he saw no reason to just group people up before he got to know them.

The voice of the driver rang through the bus, jarring Harry from his thoughts again. He stood up and moved from his seat, ambling towards the front of the bus to get out. Stepping out the door, Harry rubbed his neck, massing some of the kinks out. He started walking in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron, but someone caught his eye. It was a girl, wearing a dark purple shirt that clung to her skin, a dark scarf wrapped around her neck and a pair of black jeans that showed the shape of her legs. The girl looked up and he saw that it was Blaise. She stepped up to him, smiling and gave a tiny wave. Before he could respond hello, she opened her umbrella and pointed up at the sky, a knowing smirk on her face. Harry raised an eyebrow and looked up, just in time for a big fat raindrop to hit him right on the forehead.

He groaned and looked back down at Blaise, absently noting that her lips would come to just about his chin, and saw that she laughing, her hand trying to cover her mouth, but failing miserably. He sighed and took the umbrella from her hands, careful to brush the tips of his fingers along her knuckles. He held it above their heads and motioned with his head to the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

"So Potter, is it that you don't pay attention to your surroundings, or do you just like the rain to hit you in the face?" Blaise had a small smile on her face as she looked up at Potter, awaiting his answer. She saw him shrug, but the corners of his lips were twitching in a smile.

"I take it you didn't get your shopping done, Potter?"

"Nope, too busy arguing and fighting."

"Well I know about the fighting, but arguing? Oh, do tell Potter, just who were you arguing with?" Blaise had another smirk on her face, that grew to a smile and then full out laughter as she saw Potter smack his forehead with his free hand.

"I thought you were above gossip, Zabini. It doesn't seem like you enjoy it much."

"I don't Potter, but it might be a useful tidbit to know who you're squabbling with." She heard him chuckle and found that she liked the sound._ He doesn't laugh enough._

"I'm not saying a thing Zabini, so you won't get your useful tidbit."

"Oh well, no harm in trying I suppose," they had reached the Leaky cauldron by this time and like a gentleman, Potter opened the door for her, careful to make sure that no rain landed on her, "why Potter, I didn't know you cared so much," she turned to him and gave him puppy dog eyes.

He scoffed and replied, "No, I just thought you wouldn't touch the door. Slytherins can't get their hands dirty can they?" He smiled to take the bite out of his comment.

She gave him an all too innocent smile and replied, "You're right, we don't. That's why we have Gryffindors to do all the menial work."

He laughed, shaking his head, closing the umbrella and started walking towards the bar. Signaling Tom, he ordered two butterbeers. He opened one and held it out to her. She took it and sat down next to him.

"What made you decide to come back to Hogwarts?"

He turned his head to look at her, his emerald eyes piercing hers. She looked from his eyes, to his pale, pink lips. Her mind caught up with her again to just hear the end of what he was saying, "…looking for something and Hogwarts has one of the best libraries. What about you?"

She answered back with the faintest blush, "Despite all the attacks in recent years, Hogwarts is still one of the safest places to be at. Also, I might as well finish my education."

He just smirked at her and downed the rest of his butterbeer. She did the same and watched him put several sickles on the table, pull them back into his pocket with a blush after the barman waved the charge, and then picked up the umbrella. Following his lead to the entranceway of Diagon Alley, Blaise finally took in Potter's clothes. She ran a finger down his bare arm starting from the shoulder blade to his wrist, drinking in the fact that he shuddered under her touch.

"Interesting clothes Potter. I didn't know you were into leather and such tight outfits." Her eyes ran down his chest, where the shirt was so snug that it fit him like a glove, then down to his legs, stopping when they landed at his crotch. She moved up to him and put her body as close as possible to his without touching. She leaned up and purred softly in his ear, "My, my, haven't we grown up Mr. Potter?" She pulled back and grinned wolfishly upon seeing that his face was flushed and that it trailed down to his neck. She half expected him to start spluttering and shy away in embarrassment, so she was caught unawares when his body loomed over hers, his hot breathe tickling her ear, "We all have…," he trailed off and she could literally feel the smirk he had on his face, "Blaise." His voice had a dropped to a whisper, a deep rumble that just oozed sensuality. Never in a million years did she think someone could sound so utterly sexy and from Harry Potter, the golden boy of Gryffindor, Mr. Innocent no less.

Harry pulled back from Blaise's warm body, missing the heat that was coming off her body already. Unknowingly giving that roguish Potter grin at her, he turned to the brick wall that was the entrance way into Diagon and tapped the bricks in the right order. The sight still amazed him after all these years, how magic could hide so much, releasing that no matter all the hardships magic had brought him he would never trade it for anything. Stepping into the Alley, he turned his head to see Blaise still at his side, her cheeks with a light layer of pink; you could hardly notice it unless you were looking closely.

"Where are you off to?"

"One of the specialty stores, I'm looking for a present for dear old dad and mum. And what about you Potter?" Blaise responded after banishing her blush.

"Gringotts. Don't have any cash on me." He handed the umbrella back to Blaise, her fingers brushing his this time.

"See you around, Gryffindork."

Harry chuckled softly at her remark and her wide smile. He began walking towards the tilted white building at the end of the alley, raising his arm and waving his hand, "See you around."

* * *

Harry soon found himself inside Gringotts. Quickly moving to a free teller, Harry looked closer at the features of this particular goblin. Said goblin looked up during his inspection with an eyebrow raised in silent inquiry. After done with his examination, Harry gave a slight nod of his head, "Is this a promotion or demotion from taking people to their vaults, Griphook?"

Shock adorned Griphooks face before becoming expressionless, "A promotion, Mr. Potter. May I enquire as to how you remembered me?"

"Well, my first trip to the wizarding world was when I was eleven, so I basically took everything in. It also helps that your nose leans to the right and hooks down. Also, that you took me down to my vault for the first time ever."

"You are a strange wizard Mr. Potter. Not many of your kind would bother to remember the details like you pointed out and are quick to despise us. Now what can we help you with?"

"Well I need to go into my vault to get some money but I don't seem to have my key on me." Harry gave a sheepish grin at this, seeing as how important the keys were to get in and out of the vaults. He was surprised when Griphook merely waved his hand in disregard and took out a sheet of parchment.

"Place your thumb on the indicated square. It will take a sample of your magic to identify you and we can forge another key." Harry did as he was instructed and saw information start to rapidly fill out on the sheet. Griphook took it before he could actually read anything, gave a quick nod in satisfaction, and then produced a key from a small black box next to his station.

"Mr. Potter, now that you are of age, you are allowed to access the Potter Family Vault," at the blank look Griphook received, he elaborated, "The Potter family is an old and distinguished family dating to the time of the founders. They have a vault established in the bowels of Gringotts. Your vault is just a trust fund that has a yearly deposit of 5,000 galleons. Were you not informed of this by your magical guardian?"

A grimace came across Harry's features, "No, I wasn't aware that I had a magical guardian. I assume that it was Dumbledore though." Harry felt that he should be angry at the old man for keeping more information from him, but he was dead.

With a scowl, Griphook said something in gobbledygook to a goblin near him. Stepping away from his station, he motioned for Harry to follow him through two sets of bronze doors. Harry found himself in a hallway that was marble with glowing runes etched in the floor and ceilings. Through the twists and turns, so many that he lost count after the tenth, Harry found himself in front of two solid gold doors, with writing adorning them from top to bottom. Upon a knock by Griphook, the doors opened with nary a squeak or groan emanating from them. Stepping into the room, he saw that there was sparsely any furniture save a huge wooden desk at the end of a room, with quite possibly the oldest goblin he had ever seen, sitting behind it. He moved his gaze to the sides of the room, seeing that weaponry were placed on one wall, covering it completely, and on the other were portraits of what he assumed were famous battles in goblin history.

Reaching the desk, Harry stood stock still, not knowing what to do. He carefully looked over the goblin, noticing that he wore armor similar to some of the goblins in the portraits and that he had a curved sword attached to his waist. Upon seeing a gesture by this regal looking goblin, Harry moved to sit down in one of the high back chairs in front of the desk.

"Mr. Potter, during your examination of my quarters, Griphook informed me that you were not aware of your family vault. Is this correct?"

Harry nodded his head slowly, not sure where this was going, "Yes. I believed that the vault that was shown to me on my eleventh birthday was the only one I had." Harry paid close attention and saw a scowl form on the goblin's face.

"The Potters have been one of the most influential customers inside Gringotts. My apologies Mr. Potter, for not seeing to this abuse of your privilege as a Gringotts customer."

Waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, Harry replied, "It's all right. I know about my family vault now and please just call me Harry." Harry offered the goblin his hand.

The goblin smiled which served him to look more menacing and took his hand in a hearty grip, "You may call me Ragnok. It seems that the rumors about you seem to have some merit."

Harry's face took on a look of annoyance, "Rumors?"

If it was possible, Ragnok's grin grew wider, "Yes. We have heard that you are an unusual wizard of great power that does not care for the manner of purebloods and their treatment of other beings. There have been speculations that you are friends with a house elf, a half-giant, a werewolf, and an acquaintance of a centaur. Griphook even informed me that you recognized him from your time here six years ago. An extraordinary feat, considering the majority of attitude held amongst wizards towards our kind. I digress however, the reason Griphook brought you here to me is so I can supply you with access to your family vault. If you would follow me." Ragnok stood from his chair and moved to a section of the wall. Running his finger down a non-descript part of it, the wall slid to the side, revealing a cart that would go into the tunnels.

Climbing in beside Ragnok, Harry asked, "How come another goblin couldn't take me to the vault?"

With another menacing grin, Ragnok replied, "The locations of the most secure vaults are known only to me, the director of Gringotts, the account managers, and personal couriers to those vaults. Griphook is neither of those three and the account manager for the Potters has passed away."

Realization dawned upon Harry as he processed what Ragnok just said._ Shite! I'm sitting next to the director of Gringotts._ With an audible gulp, Harry replied smoothly, "I take it that you are the director?" A short nod in conformation, "And you're here to take me to my vaults?" Another nod, this accompanied by a gleaming row of sharp, pointy teeth.

For the duration of the ride, both parties remained silent, only talking when one asked a question concerning the other. In what appeared to be no time at all, they found themselves in front of a set of golden doors, not unlike the ones in Ragnok's quarters. However, there was no writing on this one, hardly anything at all, save for a tiny engraving in the middle of the doors. Harry stepped up close and ran his hand over the fine imprint, murmuring the pledge to himself, "_The brave shall fight for their hearts and find themselves on the path to right"_ A small white glow surrounded his hand, a feeling of warmth spreading through his body and the doors slowly opened with a great yawn, creaking from disuse of over seventeen years.

There were wooden chests lined on each side of the vault, each carrying different items ranging from galleons, to sickles and Knuts, to emeralds and rubies, and a myriad of other riches. Large wooden cabinets adorned the wall, a gold plague signifying what was in each. He went to the one marked _James Potter_ and opened it to see a knickknacks and a letter. Picking it up for a close examination he saw a messy scrawl similar to his own, his name written in a bold red ink across the front of the envelope. With a sharp intake of breath, Harry ran his fingers over the lettering, his eyes slightly moist. Placing the letter back in the cabinet, he moved to the next one, the name _Lily Potter_ carved on the plaque. Opening it to reveal muggle notebooks covering different subjects and another letter, his name written in an emerald green ink in a flowery script. A lone tear traveled down his cheek as he placed the letter back inside, saving that one and his father's for another day.

Wiping his face with the back of his hand, Harry turned his head to the center of the room, a small golden chest resting a pedestal that wasn't their when he first entered. Feeling a pull that was traced back to the chest, Harry cautiously moved towards it, his goblin companion long forgotten. The chest was pure gold, not a single scratch marring the surface of it. Opening the chest to reveal a piece of parchment, Harry picked it up and held it to his face.

_To my Heir, _

_My name is Tiamat. I am the first of the Potters, the ancestor of your noble line. I will not regale you with tales of my time with the founders or how I came to love my wife and bequeath the new generation of Potters that led to you. _

_My life is at an end and I have composed this letter, to those who by the magic of the Potter line, deem worthy to be my heir. If you are reading this, then the magic surrounding the chest has recognized you as a Potter, but not as the true heir. By the end of this letter, should a ring appear, then the Potter magic has signified that you have the potential to become my successor. _

_This ring is a testament to our true blood and to who we, the Potters, are. Once the ring has been placed on your finger, it will automatically accommodate to your size, recognizing you as my successor. Be warned, that should the ring decide that you are not worthy, you shall be rejected and will not be able to access the power of our lineage. _

_Remember that whatever should happen, you are nonetheless a Potter. We are a brave people, who fight for the innocent no matter who they are. We are a people that will do what must be done to send the darkness to back from whence it came. We are a people, who follow our hearts. Remember this, this is who we are. _

_Tiamat_

Harry exhaled a slow steady breath as he finished reading the letter, questions flashing through his mind._ True blood? Tiamat? Where is this ring?_ Pulling the letter away from his face, his eyes zoomed in on the chest, watching as a silver ring appeared in the center of it. Picking it up and holding it between his fingers, he looked at it closely. It was not a regular ring band; instead it was a coiled dragon forming the body of it, with the head at the center of it. It was silver in color, save for a small flash of color in the eyes of the dragon, changing from red to green to blue to yellow. He was about to place it on his right hand, when he stopped._ How will it reject me if that happens? And 'power of our lineage'? Does that mean magic or something else? But…to be able to access the power of my ancestors…could this be something that can help me against Voldemort?_ Harry's faced hardened in determination, the chance to gain something that could be valuable in the fight against Voldemort worth the risk.

Slipping the ring on the middle finger of his right hand, Harry waited with baited breath for something to happen. He watched the ring closely for any indication that it had accepted him. Nothing…until the head of the dragon slowly moved and then in one quick motion, it opened its jaw and bit down on the connecting knuckle. A sharp jolt of pain washed along his body, like a bolt of lighting striking his body. His hands clutched the pedestal in a tight grip, fingers digging into it, his hold cracking the pedestal lightly. And as quick as it began, the sensation soon washed away. Panting heavily, Harry looked down at his hand, the head of the dragon returning to its place on the ring, the ring itself soon vanishing. Running his other hand over it, he noted that it was still there, but he couldn't see it anymore. Looking back to the chest he saw that the parchment had been replaced by another one.

_To my Successor, _

_You have now been recognized as my true heir, the full power of the Potter lineage available at your command. The power is not an import of all my knowledge nor is it an exponential increase in your magic. I shall not tell you what the power is, but know that the blood of your line will be revealed. _

_It will come in short bursts, mainly at times of dire need when help is needed. Once it has been unleashed fully, then you are able to access it at any time you wish. You will decide how it is used, but I know that it shall only be used for the good of world. Whether you fight for the light or the dark, the lives of innocents and the preservation of our world is what matters most. There is a fine line between light and dark but keep in mind, the innocent shall come first before you. _

_Do what must be done to save them. This is the right of the Potters, the guardians and defenders of the weak. Go and follow your heart, which will lead you to the correct decision as to what to do. _

_Tiamat_

* * *

Harry was silent on the ride back, only confirming to Ragnok that he was able to access the vaults with no consequences. Ragnok took him back to his office, conversing for a few more moments about Harry's feelings towards goblins in general. Satisfied with his answer, Ragnok told Harry that his door is open to him should he ever need assistance.

Griphook appeared at Harry's side and took him back to the main floor of the building. Supplying Harry with one of Gringotts security wallets, only to be opened by the owner with several sections each connected to his vault that could give money in wizard or muggle, he bid a good afternoon to him.

Standing at the entranceway, Harry took out a battered wallet from his back pocket, the leather fading, peeled and cracked, barely hanging by the seams. He took out a picture and placed it in his new dragonhide wallet. Throwing away the old one in a trash bin at the doorway, he slipped the new one in his back pocket and walked down the alley, his first stop at Magical Menagerie.

Moving to the counter to pay for the deluxe owl treats that he picked up; Harry strained his ear to hear the dark musings of the snakes in the back of the shop. Picking up a self cleaning cage for Hedwig as well, he chuckled lightly to himself as he paid for his purchases and walked out of the store. He was oblivious to the stares he was getting, disapproving ones from the older women for his choice of clothing, the approving and lustful leers from the younger crowd, he remained ignorant to it all as he moved to Ollivanders.

Wiping off some of the dust that had accumulated on the window, he pressed his face to the glass and looked for any sign of a Horcrux. The idea for him to look in here came when he was reviewing Riddle's life and came to see that when he received his wand would have been a major event in his life. Piecing it up with the fact that Ollivander was missing and that the store had fell into decay, he believed that a Horcrux could be here. His search was futile, not being able to see the majority of the store and he hadn't a clue as to what to look for specifically. Shaking his head he walked towards Flourish and Blotts, only to be assaulted by cries of "Harry!", "Where have you been young man?", "We've been waiting for ages."

Again a red blur assaulted him in a vicious hug, the head of the person barely coming up to his chest told him that it was Ginny. With an inward sigh, he pried Ginny off his body and held her at arms lengths, "Hello."

"Harry, I missed you so much. How come you never showed up at the Burrow and how come you were acting that way yesterday?" Her cheerful demeanor vanished to be replaced the Weasley temper full with fists on her hips just like her mother. Luckily he was saved by a chocolate brown blur crashing into his body in another tight hug._ Must be taking lessons on how to crush people with hugs from Mrs. Weasley. _With her head tucked under his and her voice muffled he barely heard her greeting of his name.

"Hello Hermione, mind letting go?"

She pulled back without any embarrassment, but a quick once over of his body to see if he was okay, revealed to her how he was dressed and how they fit his lean body snugly. A blush coming to her cheeks, Hermione looked at the ground as she fiddle with her toes, her hands behind her back in that bashful manner.

He looked to Ron to see him with a wide grin on his face, laughing silently at his predicament. He was about to retort when he was pulled into another bone-breaking hug, this one courtesy of Mrs. Weasley, "Oh Harry my dear, thank you for getting Ginny out of the fight and for keeping Ron safe. Are you okay? Oh dear, you certainly don't look it, you're all skin and bones…what do they feed you at the horrid house?" Fussing over him as only Mrs. Weasley could, he managed to get away once again just in time to hear Ginny's comment.

"He's not skin and bones mum. He looks more than fine to me." He looked at her and saw that she was looking at him with something akin to lust as she walked up to him and ran her hand up and down his arm. Thankfully he didn't shudder. Stepping out of reach he forced a small smile on his face as he answered Mrs. Weasley.

"I've been eating every day. They ignore me for most of the time, so we're fine." He started going through the rows of shelves, gathering his books for the year and picking up a few strays that caught his eye, _Practioneers of the Mind_, _Different uses for Everyday Spells_, and two more focusing on the history of the founders. Hermione spoke up first.

"Harry, did you read our letters?"

"Not all of them. Some started to repeat themselves so I didn't read them." He didn't see the expressions that came over Ron and Hermione's faces.

"Well mate, Bill and Fluer's wedding has been pushed back to the Yule Holidays." Harry turned to Ron with a questioning glance, "The first wedding date was a day after a full moon and they don't know how Bill will react, so they pushed it back just in case."

Nodding his head, Harry moved to the charm section and picked up his last book, "Do you know the specific date?"

"Probably on Boxing Day, they haven't said for sure." Again nodding his head to Ron's answer, Harry paid for his books at the counter. He turned to Hermione, seeing as how she was silent for most of the talk. Placing his hand on her shoulder, she looked up to him.

"Are you okay, Hermione? You've been pretty quiet." She waved away his concern, showing she was all right with a small smile. He didn't buy it, but let it drop. He grimaced as he felt someone attach themselves to his arm. One look at the person confirmed it was Ginny. He sighed again when he realized she didn't get the message at the end of last year. Seeing his chance to come clean with her he raised his voice.

"Ginny," seeing that he had her attention he rambled on, "Remember what we talked about at the end of last year?"

"Yes, but I don't see why we can't be together. I can help you with what it is your doing."

"No. I've made my decision on this. I'm not bringing in any one else. As long as I have Hermione and Ron, I don't need to." He crossed his arms and stood his ground as he watched her stamp her feet and act like the child that she was.

"I've fought with you before. I'm better than Ron and how come he gets to help you."

Harry heard an indignant "Oi!" coming from Ron, but his attention was on the spitfire in front of him, "I didn't want anyone coming with me that time and I don't want anyone coming with me this time either," he saw her about to open her mouth but he cut her off with a gesture, "They already know about what I'm gonna do and they're not gonna let me go off on my own. You want to come to, but you don't know what it is we're gonna do and I'm not saying a thing."

"But I can help!" a glare from Harry made Ginny's voice drop to a harsh whisper, "I lasted longer than Ron in the Department of Ministries and I'm not as thickheaded as he is"

Harry just shook his head and walked out of the store towards the apothecary, the rest of the group following him. Picking up three sets of seventh year potions and one sixth years, amidst their protest for him buying, he paid for all of them and handed them each their respective set. Walking back into the alley and aiming for the exit, he was turned around to face one furious witch.

Ginny poked his chest and spoke in a threatening whisper, "Harry, you listen to me. I am your girlfriend. I know everything about you and I know you're gonna try and get rid of me, but I'm having none of it. Now you're gonna tell me what you three are doing and I'm gonna help."

Harry's muscles tensed in a mixture of anger and annoyance, but he relaxed himself and mimicked Ginny's tone, "You know everything about me?"

"Yes. I know everything there is to know about the boy-who-lived. I've been fed that story since I was born and I know you're trying to be noble in letting me go, but I'm not letting you go." Ginny had expected to win at least something with this argument, but was thrown off by his next question.

"What's my favorite color?" Getting a confused look in return, he elaborated, "You said you know everything about me, so what's my favorite color?"

Ginny answered with confidence in her voice, "Red and Gold, the colors of a Gryffindor." She was confused when he shook his head.

"Blue and black. What is my favorite thing to do in the world?"

Dismayed at getting the first question wrong, she was unsure of herself, but Ginny spoke with confidence once again upon hearing the second question, "Everyone knows that, you could at least give me a hard question. The answer is Quidditch." She had paid special attention to him when he played and saw how happy he was so she was sure that she was right. Another shake of his head proved her wrong.

"Quidditch is fun, but flying is my favorite thing in the world. Just flying, that's all. What do I want most in this world?"

Ginny gulped nervously at getting the second question wrong. She was so sure that it was Quidditch, but she was close to the answer though. With the last question, she remembered her words at the end of the funeral, "To kill Voldemort, save the wizarding world, and then become an auror to save everyone else in the future." She heard a groan and was shocked when she discovered that it came from Hermione. She turned her attention back to Harry to see him shaking his head.

"To be free. You don't know me at all Ginny, you just know the boy-who-lived—," he moved closer to her and whispered in her ear, "And I hate the boy-who-lived and everything that comes with it. I just want to be free and be Harry Potter, not the boy-who-lived." With that he stood up and walked away towards the exit.

* * *

Most of the crowd had stopped when they saw the confrontation brewing in the middle of the alley, but were quick to dismiss it when they saw it was a man and a woman, probably having a lovers spat. Their feet soon picked up again once coming to this conclusion, but one still watched with eyes fixed to the couple.

Blaise couldn't hear what the two were talking about, but she could guess as to the subject. The rumors circulating the Weaslette all centered on Potter. Her promiscuous dating habits were in an attempt to prove to the boy that she was a woman and could make her own decisions. She was obsessed with the boy. The rumor at the end of year was about how Potter, in an act of nobility, ended the relationship with the fireball. She obviously wasn't taking it well and was probably trying to convince Potter at the moment that they should be together.

There was never a definite reason as to why Potter broke up with the girl. Some said that she wouldn't put out for the boy-who-lived, others that she was too aggressive for his passive nature. One of the most frequent rumors was that the girl had slipped Potter a love potion and that he finally discovered the fact and he broke up with her because of it. With Potter's track record, it was probably a reason that no one saw or could speculate. He was such an enigma. Hardly anyone was close to him and those that were hardly told anyone his secrets.

She roused herself from her thoughts to see the end of the argument with Potter leaning in close, whispering something into the red head's ear, and then walk towards the exit where Blaise herself was at. Blaise let her eyes drift to the girl, watching as her mouth hang open in shock, her eyes narrow as they came into contact with her own. Blaise smirked at her with a wicked gleam in her eyes. Potter had reached the exit and Blaise moved close to him, her arm brushing his, "Another argument Potter? People just can't seem to give you some slack." She turned her head to look at Potter's ex, her face becoming flushed in anger. Winking at her, Blaise walked out of Diagon with Potter at her side, the brick wall closing behind them.

"That wasn't very nice you know." She turned her head to look at Potter about to fire a witty comeback for what he said, but she saw the smile tugging at his lips.

"I take it that she tried to get back together with you," seeing Potter's nod in the affirmative, she continued in her voice cultivated by years of teaching to be estranged and dispassionate, "You probably said something real good to shut her up."

"Yeah, I did. Told her how she was in love with a fantasy and she doesn't know who I am. There's also another reason."

She raised an elegantly shaped eyebrow in response, "Oh?"

In answer he pulled out a wallet from his back pocket, her eyes following the motion. He pulled a photo from its contents and handed it to her. She took it from his grasp and held it to her face. It was a picture of a couple, the man, who she assumed was Potter for they looked the same, was spinning around a witch in his arms, who looked like the witch he was arguing with earlier, the snow falling in the background as they danced in front of a fountain.

"I don't see how this picture of you and the Weaslette is a reason for you breaking up with her." She heard him chuckling softly, watching as it soon grew to a boisterous laughter, his hands bracing himself against the wall to hold himself up. A moment later he regained his composure and pointed his finger at the man.

"Blaise Zabini, I would like you to meet James Potter, my father." Blaise's face twisted into a grimace, her body shuddering as she realized who the other woman was, "And the pretty witch he's holding is my mum, Lily Evans Potter."

"How in the hell did no one else realize that it looked like you were dating your mother?"

"I noticed it around the end of the year and it gave me nightmares. It didn't help that she was starting to get more aggressive." Potter's body shuddered from the image and took the picture back, placing it into his wallet again. Taking the umbrella as well, he led the way back into the pub and out through the door into the streets of muggle London.

"Before you go to your house Potter, you are going to take me shopping." She smiled widely when she saw the gleam of horror in his eyes, "When you tackled me to the ground yesterday, you tore up my blouse, so you owe me a new one. No complaining out of you or I'll show you some impressive hexes I learned during my years at Hogwarts."

Harry aimlessly followed Blaise, arriving at a store called Harrods. He didn't like shopping with Mrs. Weasley and the horror stories he heard from some of his dorm mates only made to serve it worse. At least he would be shopping with someone who he could get along with, it could be worse. And as in answer to his thoughts, he saw a person walking along the street, pink hair bobbing on her head as she stepped up to them.

"No, no, no, Tonks what are you doing here?"

"Wotcher Harry. Already moving on to another woman? Ginny won't like that." Tonks had a teasing smile on her face as she turned to Blaise, "The names Tonks. I'm sort of like Harry's sister. So what's got you dragging my bro over to this store?"

Harry looked at Blaise to see the same teasing smile on her face and he groaned loudly, not believing his misfortune, "Potter here, ripped my blouse yesterday so he's gonna buy me a new one."

Tonks linked her hands together and with a wicked smile she turned to Harry, "Might as well get you some new clothes while you're at it Harry. All that trash the Dursley's gave you to wear doesn't look good on you."

"I was wondering about that. He showed up yesterday in rags and today he comes in brand new clothes. Even at Hogwarts his clothes are ratty." Blaise looked at Harry with an inquiring gaze, but shifted to Tonks seeing as how she was more eager to explain.

"True, but I got these clothes for Harry as a birthday present. I couldn't stand to see him in those old clothes anymore."

With identical looks both girls turned to Harry and he started to sweat at noticing the look in their eyes. He turned around to run but was pulled back by the scruff of his neck and they began to drag him in the store. Harry started looking for help and saw a familiar shade of sandy brown hair, "Moony, help!"

He only got laughter from the amused werewolf, but it quickly vanished. His face gaining the same look of horror as Tonks grabbed him by the hand and proceeded to drag him as well. The women plopped them down on a bench and started going through the clothes, piling them into their laps.

"Nymphadora..." A glare from Tonks cut him off, "Tonks...I don't need any clothes. The ones I have fit me fine."

"Oh no, Remus. All your clothes are stained and ripped. I'm getting you a new wardrobe. The same goes for you Harry."

After several hours of moving from place to place inside the store, weighed down by more bags that they could carry, Harry and Remus sat down on a nearby bench outside the store, the girls going to an ice cream stand to get treats.

"How come you and Tonks showed up today? Were you my guards today?"

"Yes we were. We weren't supposed to make ourselves known, but Tonks has been trying for ages to get me shopping with her. Seeing her chance she decided to take me in and we could keep a closer on you. She didn't do much watching though."

Harry nodded with a painful expression on his face, "There were so many clothes Remus. Why do they have so many different styles?"

Remus nodded with a lost expression on his face, "I don't know cub, I just don't know. Anyway, who's the girl Harry?"

"Blaise Zabini, my year, Slytherin house. Never really met her until yesterday. She's not bad actually."

After walking Blaise to her apartment and bidding goodbye, Harry side-along apparated with Remus back to Privet Drive. The sun was setting, the air becoming chilled, his breath becoming misty, visible to his eye. He placed his hand on his wand, scanning the immediate area. Seeing nothing he relaxed himself and saw Remus do the same. An exchange of hugs and well wishes, along with goodnights, Remus apparated away, leaving Harry on the doorstep. The wind blew past him, ruffling his hair and the edge of an invisibility cloak in Petunia's garden. Harry looked closer and saw that the cloak wasn't hunched over as if somebody was crouching. It was on the ground covering something, a body. He walked towards it slowly, feeling his way along the fabric. A nose, lips, and cheeks. Pulling back the edge of the cloak, Harry stared into the dead eyes of a portly wizard, thinning brown hair at the top. The name of the guard came to his mind. Dedalus Diggle, one of the guards that brought him to Grimmauld two years ago.

Making the gesture to shoot the wand into his hand, he tightened his grip on it, knuckles turning white from the pressure. He stepped up to the door, slowly turning the knob. No resistance, it wasn't locked. Fear gripping him, He pushed it open, an ominous creak sounding from the door. The hallway was dark, silent save the footfall of his steps on the hardwood floor. A flash of light, a sickly yellow was seen from the living room. No screams, no sounds told him that there was a silencing charm. With his back to the wall, he stealthily walked along the hall. Reaching the entranceway, he leaned in to see what was happening.

Five death eaters, taking turns to shoot the sickly yellow light of the crucio at his relatives, alternating between Petunia and Dudley. Thick cords were bound around Vernon, tying him down in his mustard yellow chair, the ropes digging into his skin, red lines of blood blotting his white shirt. His eyes locked onto Vernon's and he saw fear, hatred, and panic in them. Making his decision, Harry held a curse to his lips, ready to fire if necessary. His entrance drew the attention of the death eaters.

One of them immediately barked out "Potter" in a harsh bark. Harry didn't recognize the voice, his eyes moved from the one down the rest of the line. They raised their wands at him, in a sloppy manner, their timing separate. Harry held up his wand, parallel to his body in a defensive stance.

"Good of you to come for the rest of the show Potter. Just in time for the ending. Any suggestions on how to kill these animals?" A cruel laughter rang through the death eaters. Petunia and Dudley whimpering, Vernon stewing in a silent rage. Harry remained silent, his emerald gaze, so similar to the killing curse, piercing each and every one of Voldemort's servants. They all shuddered at the cold look, their laughter dying out to a nervous chuckle before stopping completely.

"What do you want?"

The death eater that spoke before moved in front of the rest, obviously the leader of this raid, "Our lord sent us here to get you. We just decided to have fun with the animals here, while we were waiting for you."

Harry let his gaze drift to his relatives to assess their injuries. Vernon didn't look too bad, just bleeding from the cuts, nothing life threatening. Petunia and Dudley were hunched over, drawing in shaky breaths. He turned his attention back to the leader, "How long have you been here?"

He shrugged and replied in a casual manner, "Ten minutes. Now sit down and enjoy the show." The leader turned towards the family only to meet Potter standing protectively in front of them, his wand aiming straight between his eyes. His body shuddered as he looked into the boy's eyes and remembered that he had already killed according to the reports of the battle.

As much as Harry despised the Dursley's, he couldn't let them die. He was forced upon them, left on their doorstep by Dumbledore. That didn't give them the right to neglect and abuse him, but he could understand them somewhat. They just treasured different values in life. He never cared for his image, only for what his close personal friends thought of him. The Dursley's were the opposite of him, valuing their appearance and how the neighbors view them. He could leave them to die, but what would that say about him? They had only wronged him and he would rather forget them and leave them be, but his conscience wouldn't let them die. They were innocent in this war; they wouldn't fight back against the wizards and had no place in it. Lowering his wand to the surprise of the death eaters, Harry spoke in a calm and steady voice, "A deal. I'll go with you, no resistance, if you let them go."

The leader's smirk grew behind the skull white mask of the death eaters, "No. We'll just kill them and take you." He got a chilling laughter in response, no humor in it at all.

"Voldemort won't like that," the death eaters drew in sharp breaths at hearing their lord's name, "I'll take some of you down with me and I don't think Voldie can afford any more losses. I already killed Bellatrix remember? Don't forget Malfoy too?" The last wasn't true, but he was banking on that they didn't know who killed him, "So you think you can take me without any losses? My way is better. I go with no spells traded and my relatives go free. You get what you want and I get what I want."

Harry watched as the death eaters pulled themselves into a huddle, discussing his offer. Harry moved back towards Vernon, the only that was coherent enough to understand his orders, "When they leave, I want you to send a message with my owl. Write Remus Lupin on the envelope, asking for medical help." Harry looked at his uncle straight in the eye, a storm of disbelief, wariness and rage battling for dominance. The second won out.

"Why are you doing this, boy?!" Vernon's voice was hoarse, raspy from his screaming earlier. He looked at the boy, unsure as to why he was doing this. They had never given the boy a reason to save them. They always came to screaming matches.

"I hate to see people die and I'll save as many as I can. You may have treated me like a dog, a servant to do your chores, but your still people. You still have a family to look out for." With that Harry stood up to his full height, topping off at 5'11''. He wasn't extremely tall by any means like Ron, but coupled with that cold gaze of his, he made a fearsome visage. The death eaters dispersed, the leader coming to the front again.

"You have a deal."

Harry smirked at this and responded, "Unbreakable Vow. Swear on your magic, that you leave them alone for good as long as I go with you willingly."

With a wary glance at the rest of his death eaters, the leader extended his wand, "I, Julian Thomas, swear on my life and magic, that the family of Harry James Potter shall not be harmed by death eaters, should he come willingly with me."

Harry gave a shout of triumph inside his mind, but didn't show any emotion on his face. He mimicked the leader's actions, "I, Harry James Potter, willingly go with Julian Thomas, on the condition that death eaters do not harm my family."

A fine, silken red cord shot from the tip of each wand, wrapping around the other and moving forward to ensnare the wrists of the two. The cord between the two became solid. Harry lowered his wand as did the others and he moved forward towards them. Julian handed him a small coin, the dark mark emblazoned on it. Placing his hand on it, the two were whisked away to wherever Voldemort is.

**A/N: Wow that was a long chapter! So close to ten thousand words. For the Hermione fans, don't worry if she didn't talk so much. She may have seemed OOC, but she just got a close look at Harry and how he looked in his clothes. It won't be H/Hr; she was just blushing because she realized that he is a man, and a good looking one at that. For the Ginny fans (if any in this story) I won't make her that stupid arrogant bitch that is just mad all the time. She was just forced to learn that she was attracted to a fantasy. She'll grow up, but she'll still be intent on getting Harry. She won't get him and Harry won't go to her because of the mom thing. She'll just become sneaky in her ways to get him and Blaise will give her hell when she finally does get with Harry.**

**I really hoped you liked the parts with Harry and Blaise. I'm not too sure about the store that they went too, but I've read the name of that store in so many other fanfics that I assumed it was real. If it isn't, I apologize to all the writers that use that store if they came up with it. The scene where they were close to each other's body, it was all teasing. The relationship won't go super fast and they fall in love with each other right away. I hate that as much as I love it. **

**The thing in Gringotts with the Potter lineage. Any of you who play video games, read mythology can take a gander as to what Harry has unlocked. That is all I will say. It will be shown again in the coming chapters.**

**Preview for next chap: A torture scene, the death of two DE's, a frantic Headmistress, and an explanation from Dumbledore. For the DE deaths they're already set, but you can drop suggestions and I might change my mind. Until next time (hopefully much sooner)**


	9. Pain's Scream

**King and Queen; Stone and Snow**

**A/N: Here you go, a brand new chapter! I warn you now that I do have a torture scene and it is descriptive. I gave you a fair warning so skip it if you don't want to read it. Taking the advice of Geovanni Luciano, who penned a Harry/Tonks story that is great (Harry Potter and the Season of Hell), I have given Blaise a more prominent role in this chapter and the next to come. **

**I have trouble writing out Hermione and Ron's characters cause they are not a heavy focus in this story. They will be in the story, but you won't have any of their POV'S.**

**Well, without further ado, I present you the new chapter of King and Queen. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 9: Pain's Scream**

When the dizzy sensation passed, Harry lifted his head up to look at where he Voldemort's hideout was. It simply floored him. He was standing in front of a large castle, similar to Hogwarts with its battlements, stone gargoyles. If he didn't know better, he would have said it was Hogwarts, only that there were a few small differences. It was smaller in size, not being as wide or as tall, and it carried a sinister tone, as if the mortar for the castle had been supplied with dark magic.

Every brick of the wall was made out of a rough black stone. There were cracks running along each brick, but it didn't appear weaker, just gave it an ominous feeling. There were small carving of snakes spread throughout the walls, the most prominent one being at the top of the archway that was the entrance. Atop of that was a shield with an intricate S in the center. That along with everything else told him that this castle probably belonged to Salazar Slytherin at one point.

He felt two wands pressed to each side of his neck and one digging into his lower spine, a gruff voice telling him to move or he won't be using those legs anytime soon. Pulling himself to his full height and holding his head up high, Harry took long, confident strides towards the castle. The gravel cracked beneath his boots, the sound being heard clearly through the air. Taking measured glances to the sides, Harry looked for any descriptive landmarks, something to let him know where he was exactly. Asides from the castle itself that was surrounded by a forest, there was nothing to let him know his location.

He hissed through gritted teeth when he felt a stinging hex hit his lower back, that same gruff voice telling him to pick up the pace. He looked straight ahead, stopping when told. His eyes strayed to the left to see the leader of this group; Julian his name was, conversing with a guard and showed him his left forearm. Turning his eyes back forward, Harry looked through this piece of information. You needed the dark mark for confirmation and there was a probably a password. He had none of this so he discarded that scrap of info and focused on the matter at hand; how the hell he was gonna get out of here.

There were several turns, as the death eaters led him through a maze of sorts. Stopping in front of a set of double doors, Harry looked closer and saw that the door was gleaming. He had thought it was the same black stone as the rest of the castle, but it shined like metal. Passing through the doors, his body shook lightly as he felt a wave of magic pass over him. It was cold and malicious, a twist sadistic craving for blood embedded in the walls and doors. He felt warmth on his right hand, the location of his newly acquired ring, come up and bat back the wave of cold. He let loose a shaky breath, quick glances to the rest of the party showing that none of them picked up on what happened.

He was led into the center of a great hall, similar to the one at Hogwarts with the exception of the tables and the house banners. The walls had runes covering their surface, the mystic runes glowing in blue fire. He was pushed down roughly to his knees, another sharp intake of breath as his knees painfully hit the rough stone. Cruel laughter rang through the room and he took measure of his surroundings again. The sides of the room, lined from end to end, were death eaters. The majority wearing their white skull masks. The ones who opted for no mask were the ones to which he already knew their identity.

There was Walden McNair, Buckbeak's executor, leaning nonchalantly against a wall, running a wet stone along the edge of his double-bladed axe. The slight screeching noise echoed off the walls, the sound making Harry's skin prickle. Sensing his gaze, McNair stopped his actions and lifted his head. His lips twisted into a grin and he ran a gnarled finger along his neck, telling him that Harry's death is near.

His gaze shifted to the next one, the dirty matted hair blocking the person's face. All he saw was a long, yellow nail picking dirty, stained teeth. A closer look showed they were fangs. The person lifted his head as well and Harry looked into the amber eyes of Fenrir Greyback. He just heard a bark of laughter as he turned his head to look at the next death eater.

It was a couple; both had the platinum-blond hair of a Malfoy. They were whispering and seemed to be having a heated argument. The man turned and Harry locked eyes with Draco Malfoy. There was hate, rage, anger, and amusement, dancing behind his silver-grey eyes. The woman lifted her head up and he saw sadness in her eyes when Narcissa Malfoy looked at her son. When her eyes found his, the sadness was replaced with an undeniable rage swirling in her crisp blue eyes. The notion of what he had done to her in order to make her hate him passed through his mind, but he couldn't come up with an answer.

His eyes shifted over to another pair of death eaters, both were tall and their bodies implied a massive bulking frame. Their dark, limp hair was covering their faces and just like all the others, they lifted their heads seemingly sensing his gaze. Two sets of black, beady eyes narrowed, piercing him with a hateful glare. The faces of the Lestrange brothers were unmistakable.

A small grin lit up Harry's face as he recalled as to why they would hate him so much. Their faces only contorted in hate as he smiled at them. He grinned wider and called out, "Hey, Rodolphus!" Whatever chattering could be heard around the hall fell silent. Harry cried out again, "Have you seen Bella lately?! I want to say hello!" Harry started to laugh lightly as he saw them get even angrier due to his taunting. He let out a strangled cry as he felt a curse pierce through his right shoulder, tearing sinew and bone as it made a neat hole out the other side. He whimpered slightly in pain as he felt his mouth being pulled down by an invisible hand. He tried to close his jaw, but the grip only tightened and proceeded to try and tear out his jaw.

Before any lasting damage could be done, the spell stopped and his mouth shot back up with a clack as his teeth hit against each other. The momentary relief of pain vanished as his head was assaulted with a fiery pain. His shoulders tensed, teeth gritted to not let the scream come out. He closed his eyes to try and block out the pain, the grinding of his teeth resounding in his ears.

As quick as the bout of pain came, it vanished. He lifted his head and opened his eyes to see Voldemort standing before him, his mouth twisted in an open smile, his sharp teeth glistening in the light from blue flames of the runes.

"So good of you to come Harry. I would wish you a warm welcome, but I don't think you will appreciate my hospitality," Voldemort paused from his speech, awaiting a response. Getting not a single word he continued, "No words of hate for me Harry? Even you're father said something to me in our duel. Well, I suppose you can't call it a duel seeing as how he begged for my mercy in the form of a killing curse and he received it."

Harry snarled at the words he heard and shot forward, his arms outstretched, hoping to strangle the life out of Voldemort. He had only gotten a quarter of the way there when a sharp stinging hex hit him in the throat. He fell down to the stone floor, his injured shoulder banging against it, his hands clutched to his throat. His head was pulled up by a sharp tugging of his hair. He looked into the crimson eyes of Voldemort and mustered a hateful glare. Voldemort only laughed and grasped his chin in an iron-clad grip.

"There is the fire dancing behind your eyes. It's so much more exhilarating when my enemies fight back. Maybe you'll prove to be interesting, unlike your worthless mother and father."

Before Harry could move his arms, they were pulled behind his back and locked in a painful position, his right shoulder protesting in pain as it was tugged. Harry looked at Voldemort and spoke in a low whisper so that only the two of them could hear, "What's the matter Tommy? Can't do your own dirty work? How pathetic." For good measure, Harry spat at Voldemort's feet. The flash of range in the crimson eyes was the only warning he got before he felt a hand collide with his cheek, sending him sprawling to the ground. His vision swam a little bit from the force of the blow. Raising his hand to his cheek he felt the start of a bruise.

He was lifted up by under his armpits and was placed back on his knees in front of Voldemort in time to hear him talk, "Congratulations my loyal death eaters. You managed to bring me Potter without a scratch. You shall be compensated for this." Harry saw Julian get on one knee and bow his head, obviously muttering something about the greatness of Voldemort. He snorted in laughter unable to hold it in and garnered the attention of Tom and Julian.

"Pray tell Harry, just what are you laughing about?"

Harry felt fingers dig into the open wound in his shoulder, forcing him to answer. He let out a choked laugh, "Ask him just how he got me to come with him?" Harry laughed harder when he saw the wary and cautious glance in Julian's eyes.

"Explain yourself Thomas. How did you acquire Potter?" His voice was an icy hiss, his lips formed into a scowl, aimed at Julian.

With hesitant movements, Julian explained how he had brought Potter with the use of an unbreakable vow. When his master requested as to what the vow entitled, he replied in a smooth voice as how no death eaters shall harm Potter's family should he come willingly with them. He raised his eyes to look into his Lord's face, but was met with an angry hiss.

"You fool! The vow was too vague! You are an incompetent death eater who could not think beyond the scope of his actions. Potter's family can easily be accounted as his close friends," Voldemort's voice was quiet but all ears were listening.

Julian cringed at hearing the displeasure and anger in his master's voice, "I beg forgiveness my lord. I did not see this obvious play in Potter's words."

"It does not matter. You are an average wizard at best and you would easily die facing the remains of Dumbledore's precious order. Your loss shall not be mourned. However, you dared to speak for me!" Julian started to mutter denials, but was cut off with another angry hiss, "You spoke for all death eaters. You spoke for my followers. You in essence spoke for me. You have sealed your fate with your impudence." Before Julian could protest he was sent flying into the steel doors, his head coming into contact with a sickening crack. He crumpled to the ground, a pool of blood quickly filling the cracks in the floor.

Harry felt an invisible string being cut between the dead body and himself, feeling the unbreakable vow end. He felt as if he should be sick for basically condemning another person to death. He quickly banished away the thought, reasoning that if he could kill without remorse, he could easily watch someone else's death, at the least that of a death eater. It didn't vanish all of the twisted feeling in his gut.

"Well played young Harry. You managed to get rid of one more of my death eaters to bring your total to three."

His mind ran through the implications of what Voldemort said. Three? That means they think I killed Lucious Malfoy. A quick glance at Mrs. Malfoy proved his point. He looked back at Voldemort and smile sweetly at him, "Your followers must be pretty pathetic to be bested by a teenager." Harry expected Voldemort to get angry or to hit him again. He was caught by surprise when Voldemort started laughing boisterously.

"There is the rashness of Godric Gryffindor's house. You should learn to mind your tongue. For you stand in the center of those so called 'pathetic' death eaters."

Harry cursed himself inwardly before he started feeling the pain of the Cruciatis curse coming from multiple directions. His screams echoed throughout the entire castle.

* * *

Blaise stretched languidly as she woke from her slumber, the dark purple sheets of her bed pooling down to her waist. She sat up, yawning, stretching her arms above her head, her chest rising slightly from the action.

She slid her legs over the edge of the bed and rose steadily on her feet. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, images assaulted her from last nights dream. A head with thick, silky raven locks, in between her thighs, his tongue caressing her sex as his hands roamed over her body. For a brief moment in the dream when her mystery lover looked, she saw a hint of emerald eyes.

Blaise shuddered from the memory of the dream and strolled into the shower, letting the warm water run down her body as she tried to awake fully. Obviously her mystery lover had to be Potter because no one else had those eyes. She didn't mind it particularly for he wasn't that bad to look at and that certain air of mystery that hung around him only added to his allure. What shook her though was how in only two days of actually talking with him that he had already slipped into her dreams.

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping a cherry red cloth around her body and moved to the mirror. Wiping away the fog of the glass, she stared into her reflection. Her long jet black hair went past her shoulders and ended just above her buttocks, a slight fringe hanging over her eyes. The red eyes she had inherited from her father along with her nose, which while dreadful on her father's face actually complimented hers. Her cheeks were chubby, but not overly so, something from her mothers along with her crimson lips that always seemed to be in a constant pout, her lower lip jutting out further than her upper one.

She parted her lips to see the small set of sharp canines, another trait from her father. They didn't look all that different from human teeth, but when she was angry or aroused, her fangs would elongate. She didn't mind in the slightest that her father's vampire blood ran through her veins. Aside from not being able to stay in sun too long or her skin would get a very impressive sunburn, being half a vampire had its advantages.

She traced her right upper forearm, remembering the time she had a particularly vicious gash. It had healed over without a scar being left over, due to her vampire healing. She also had about half the strength and speed of a normal vamp. The only drawback was that she still had to drink blood. Luckily it didn't have to be human blood, like with normal vamps who went insane if they didn't go a week without blood.

She gave one last glance at her visage before stepping out of the bathroom. Dropping the towel onto the floor, she heard an angry hiss from her familiar. Seconds later a small black kitten with pale blue eyes shuffled out under the towel. Picking up Xera and placing her on her shoulder Blaise walked to her closet and started pulling out her clothes for the day. She heard a small purring sound coming from Xera as Blaise ran her fingers down Xera's back.

Setting Xera down on her bed, Blaise dressed herself in blue jeans and a green turtleneck sweater. Rolling the sleeves up to her forearms, Blaise walked to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal and another bowl of milk for the black kitten following her at her heels.

The clanging of a metal spoon and the slurping of a cat eating its meal were the only noises heard in the flat as Blaise's thoughts moved over to Potter. Yesterdays events were seared in her mind and she couldn't look past the fact that despite all his complaining during their impromptu shopping trip, Potter never outright left. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it. Did he enjoy the fact that he was spending time with her or that someone actually went out of their way to do something nice for him?

Why in the hell was she spending so much time focusing on Potter anyway? Their meeting had only by coincidence both times…although she did drag him down for shopping after…and his eyes look gorgeous especially when he looks right at you…and he has a nice set of arms with nice collection of scars crisscrossing here and there…

She pushed the bowl of cereal away from her as she stood up, shaking away the thoughts of Potter. She looked up at the clock and cursed silently as she saw she only had twenty minutes to get on the train to Hogwarts. With a wave of her wand she had her trunk in front of her. Picking up Xera and clutching her to her chest, Blaise picked up the handle of her trunk and apparated towards Platform 9 ¾.

Looking to the left and right, she saw students and their parents milling about the platform, uttering their final goodbyes and trying to get them onto the train. That was expected, but what caught her eye was the Aurors stationed on the platform and some on the train itself. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but it was faint what with the attack on Diagon Alley it was obvious that their would be protection placed on the train. Her eyes kept searching about when she realized just what she was looking for or rather who.

With a silent curse at all things Potter, Blaise stepped onto the train, quickly finding an empty compartment. Sliding her trunk under her seat, Blaise sat down and pulled up her legs on the opposite seat. She rested her head against the window, watching as the view of the parents faded away as the train picked up steam.

The station was soon gone, replaced by the scenery of green fields and passing trees. She felt Xera hop into her lap, nudging her palm with her nose, begging to be scratched. Turning her attention to her kitten, Blaise scratched her head, behind the ears and under her chin. She smiled as she saw Xera purr in bliss from her actions. Turning her over on her back, Blaise scratched up and down her belly, causing Xera to purr louder and nuzzle her head against her leg.

She heard the door open and she turned her head to see the pink-haired woman from yesterday that had joined her and Potter during their shopping. Only this time her hair was in a toffee brown, her eyes the same color, and she was wearing an Auror uniform. The drab black cloak framing her shoulder, the insignia of the Aurors, a crimson A, sewn on the left breast, squares sewn on the right breast, probably indicating rank.

She sat down opposite her right next to her legs and propped her own feet next to Blaise, "I don't remember if I ever got your name during the torture session we had with Harry and Remus."

Blaise smiled in answer to the girls own smile, "Blaise Zabini. I think Potter said your name was Tonks? And by Remus, did you mean Professor Lupin?"

Tonks nodded her head, "Right-o. I'm so glad I was able to get clothes for Harry," said Tonks. Seeing the girl raise her eyebrow in a silent question, she rambled on, "Trust me, the kids entire wardrobe is basically rags. I had to hold myself to just getting him one outfit for his birthday. But seeing as how you were dragging him shopping, I just couldn't resist. Ooh, I can't wait to build a bonfire with his old clothes. Such things should not exist."

Blaise snorted as on the last line of her little speech, Tonks had changed her look to that of an aristocratic pureblood that resembled the Malfoys. They talked for close to an hour, first with little things about what they liked. As the hour grew on, the questions got more personal. Their childhood, what their family was like, and how they both knew one Harry Potter.

Tonks asked the question first so Blaise answered, "Met him on the day of the attack. He had gotten off the bus. Big idiot didn't know it was raining until I pointed it to him. I didn't even know it was Potter until after the battle."

Tonks giggled, "Seems like Harry. He hardly pays attention lately, boy has been thinking like crazy."

Blaise looked Tonks in the eye and asked, "And how do you know Potter?" She looked away immediately from Tonks' eyes.

"Learned about him from my cousin, Sirius Black. Met both of them about two years ago. Harry was even broody back then, but when he saw Sirius, you could see the kid in Harry. His face lit up like he had seen his best friend or his dad or…like he was home."

Blaise looked back at Tonks and raised an eyebrow, "Sirius Black? As in the same Sirius Black that was claimed to be hunting Potter during our third year?" A nod of Tonks head gave her answer, "Potter always has a crazy year at Hogwarts, "said Blaise.

Tonks looked wistful, "Poor kid can't even get a break. His first three years were bad, but the last three were even worse. He saw that bloke Cedric die, then his godfather, and then he saw Dumbledore bite the bullet. It's like he's Fate's bitch."

Blaise giggled at Tonks choice of words, but her smile became grim as she recalled how haunted Potter had looked when she first saw him, standing their on the sidewalk as the bus departed, the rain falling down his raven locks as he pinned her with his distant and sorrowful stare. Blaise came back to as Tonks muttered a goodbye and something about how she needed to patrol the rest of the train. Saying a goodbye, Blaise turned back to stare out the window, a light fog rolling among the bluffs.

She heard the door open a second time and was about to mouth off whoever had decided to bother her. She closed her mouth when she saw her friend Pansy Parkinson walk into the compartment, a bounce in her steps as she plopped down into the seat next to her. With a joyous shout of "Blaise!!" she felt two arms grab her in a vicious hug. Xera hissed as she was jostled from her seat on Blaise's lap.

"Okay Pansy, spill. What's got you so chipper to come to Hogwarts? I haven't seen that wide a smile on your face since your 13th birthday where you had your own miniature castle made of ice cream instead of a cake," said Blaise with amusement in her voice.

Pansy pinned her with a mock glare, but it faded away as she smiled again, "No Draco for our seventh year," Pansy sighed contently, "No drooling around him like some fan girl, no more of that persistent whining of his. No more of being shackled to him. The prat went and got himself a warrant for his arrest so our marriage contract has been cancelled. Finally I can start looking at men that can satisfy me."

Blaise didn't know whether to snort or scoff and decided on a combination of both in a very unladylike manner. Calming down she spoke in smooth voice that belied her amusement, "No wonder you have that goofy grin on your face. Who have your eyes set on now that Malfoy is out of the picture?"

Pansy gave her an amused stare and said, "You'll see. By the end of the month, I'll have him eating food out of my hand." Pansy leaned down and picked up Xera off the floor where she was busy grooming herself. She gave an indignant hiss that turned into an indulgent purr as Pansy ran her hands through her fur.

Blaise turned back to stare out the window, the thoughts of who Pansy was planning to seduce running through her mind. It better not be Potter. She shook her head at the thought, cursing Potter again for getting inside her head. She'll have to put him into torture for doing that to her.

* * *

Harry came to a start as icy cold salt water splashed over his body. He gasped in pain as it ran over the cuts on his bruised and battered body. He knew his eyes were swollen shut from the beating he had received under McNair and Greyback. He felt his chin being grasped roughly and then he felt a smooth sharp blade run across his eyelids in two quick motions. He gave a short cry of pain as his eyelids were cut so he could see the twisted sneer on the death eater's face in front of him.

He was thrown down roughly on the stone floor, his head banging against the concrete. He groaned in pain as he felt his body being dragged by his feet, the rough stone of the floor digging into his back. As he was being dragged towards the hall for another torture session, Harry recalled the night he came and the first round of torture.

After his idiotic remark at Voldemort and his followers he felt the biting sting of several Cruciatis curses hitting his body. His blood ran on fire as the pain of a thousand, hot knives lanced through his body. He had bitten his lip straight down, drawing blood, in order to stifle the screams.

After several seconds the spells stopped. He crashed down to the floor, desperately trying to get his breath back when he felt an arm wrap around his neck, lifting him up off the floor. The unknown death eater had flipped him over his shoulder by the scruff of his neck, sending Harry crashing down on the hard stone, banging his injured shoulder. He felt a large hand cover his face, fingers curling under his chin, dragging him back towards the center of the hall. His muffled screams were silenced as he felt several blows land on his torso.

He was picked up again and thrown towards the north wall. He was picked up and held roughly by the neck against the wall. He opened his eyes to stare into the feral, amber eyes of Greyback. He brandished a knife with a silver blade and a steel handle, waving it lazily in front of his eyes. He had muttered something about how Harry would like to be stabbed by silver. That was the only warning he got before he the cold silver plunge into his left shoulder blade. Greyback twisted the hilt of the dagger, causing several spikes to eject from the small hilt. He slowly twisted the blade into his skin, causing more pain.

The dagger was pulled out, taking with it a small chunk of flesh. He slid down to the floor, his vision swimming from the pain he was being put through. He was picked up again and pinned to the wall once more, this time by Walden McNair. Remembering the face of Buckbeak's attempted executioner, Harry spat blood into his face.

It didn't even faze him. McNair just licked the blood of his face with his slightly green tongue. Then he picked up his axe with his free hand and started slamming the flat side of the blade repeatedly into Harry's face. He felt blood squirt from his nose as it was broken. McNair continued for some time before he stopped. It only gave Harry a brief respite to feel his nose settle back into place.

Shocked, he looked around to see who had healed him, just to see the murderous gaze of Narcissa Malfoy as she lowered her wand. Before he could even think, he felt the flat side of the McNair's axe smashing against his face again. He realized that Narcissa only healed his nose so it could be broken again.

Harry feebly tried to kick McNair in the shins and groin. He had only hit his leg once before McNair loosened his hold on his neck and stepped to the side. At the same time he felt someone grab him by the legs, lock them together then toss him to the eastern side of the hall. The bark of a howl told him it was Greyback.

He landed face first against the floor. Wearily lifting up his head, he saw the face of Rodolphus Lestrange before a boot came crashing down onto his left hand. He bit back the scream as he felt his bones break further as Rodolphus grinded the heel of his boot into Harry's hand.

Grasping the leg that was digging into his hand with his free one, Harry tried to move it away or to flip Rodolphus onto his back. He got a kick to the head by Rabastan for his troubles. His grip slackening Harry rolled onto his side as the Lestrange brothers started to deliver vicious kicks to any place they could see, his back, stomach, hands, and head.

The corners of his vision started to blacken. His body heaved with racking coughs and he spat something warm from his mouth. He saw the crimson color of his blood before he blacked out. His state of unconsciousness didn't last long as felt an electric jolt run through his body. Someone had cast the revival spell, _enervate_, on him while he was in a state between being awake and unconsciousness. The spell basically delivered a short electrical jolt to a person that normally wasn't felt, but it was meant to be used when people were knocked out. When they were awake, the person could feel the electricity coursing through his blood. The words of one of his text books came to him easily as he felt several more blows land on his body.

The torture had continued in that fashion into the throes of the night. He would be tossed from wall to wall, some beating him senseless, others using the simple crucio, some being more inventive and vindictive with their torture. Every time he was on the verge of blacking out, he was hit with the revival spell. Blood-replenishing potions were forced into his mouth forcefully. Voldemort had put a stop to it before any of the death eaters could lose themselves to blood lust and kill him. His last sight was Voldemort standing over him with a sickly sweet smile, murmuring how he was going to take great pleasure in torturing him.

Harry was pulled back from the memories of last night as his body was turned sharply down a corridor, his head banging against the corner of the wall. He groaned in pain as his body was dragged into a room that was not the great hall. He didn't dare hope that there wouldn't be a torture session, and he wasn't disappointed as he saw Voldemort and two death eaters standing behind him.

Invisible chains slinked around his arms and legs, lifting him off the floor and chaining him down to stone slab in the center of the room. The chains became visible and wrapped around his torso and neck to keep him from moving an inch. Harry started to breathe heavy as he felt the sensation of being caged up like a wild animal. He felt something roaring deep in his belly, urging him to break free and kill those who had caused him injustice. The feeling slunk back with a pained roar as Voldemort approached him.

Running a finger down his bruised and swollen jaw, Harry cringed slightly as Voldemort spoke, "You shall not die on this night Potter," Harry looked up in disbelief.

"What…what…?" Harry barely got those words out before he felt a slap across his face. He looked to the person that slapped him, saw the retracting hand go into the folds of a death eaters robe. Shifting his gaze upward, he saw violet colored eyes, peering down on him with hatred through a black skull mask.

"You see young Harry, you have caused me an extraordinary amount of pain and trouble over the years. On the night of my supposed death, you left me wandering for 11 years as nothing more than a spirit, devoid of magic and body. It was a living hell. Then when I was on the verge of regaining my body and my former power, you stopped me again," said Voldemort in a sharp whisper.

Voldemort stopped from his speech momentarily to pick up a small chisel and a hammer. Turning back to Harry, he spoke again in that whisper, "It was old magic that stopped me the first time and old magic that stopped me the second. You did not cast any spells nor do anything special. You hardly did anything except grab the possessed body of poor, pathetic Quirrel and burn me with your mother's protection." Voldemort placed the end of the chisel underneath Harry's fingernail on his forefinger of his right hand. With a sharp hit of the hammer, the chisel wedged itself underneath his nail. Crying out in pain from the blow, Harry gave another shout of pain as Voldemort pried the nail off his finger.

"You see young Harry. I believe that one good turn deserves another. You have stopped me from gaining back my power six years earlier by using your hands. Now, I shall break them for that injustice towards me," said Voldemort with a cold smile. He proceeded to pry off all the nails on Harry's hands with hammer and chisel. Adding to the injury, he grasped them in his hand and squeezed the bruised flesh. Rubbing salt into the wounds inflicted, Voldemort dropped the slightly bloody hammer and chisel. Picking up a silver knife, he began to make small incisions in between the webbing of his fingers.

Voldemort spoke over Harry's screams as his bloody hand was dipped into a bowl of vinegar and rubbing alcohol, "It is interesting young Harry, the torture methods that muggles come up with. They are only for good for dying and serving us, and they do come up with inventive ways to do the former. They are sick, sadistic creatures who do not know their betters."

Finding some strength within himself, Harry whispered, "And…your purebloods? Inbred mongrels….who…fuck their…brothers…and sisters….to stay pure….? You think…their better?" He received a cuff to the head for his words.

Voldemort rambled on as if he hadn't spoken a word, "In your fourth year, you dared to run away from me, instead of fighting to see who would be the victor of our duel. You fled like a coward," said Voldemort as he picked up a sledge hammer with runes covering the handle of it. With two motions of his hands, the death eaters at his side put a block of wood over his ankles with shapes cut out so his legs could go through. Voldemort brought up the hammer then swung down, connecting with Harry's right ankle, breaking it to the left.

Harry howled in pain from the blow and screamed again as the hammer was brought down onto his left ankle, breaking it to the right. Voldemort continued to bring the sledgehammer down onto his legs, breaking his shins, and knees. Harry's vision started to swim out again but he was hit with the revival spell again, making his body jerk and his broken legs protest in pain. He heard a cruel laughter sound to his left. His eyes flew open in shock and he looked to see the violet eyes of the death eater in the black mask. Her voice sounded familiar but he couldn't place a name to it from the pain induced haze fogging his mind.

Harry saw from the corner of his eye, Voldemort taking a step back and running a hand over his chin as if he was admiring his handiwork. Wanting to wipe the smug look off his face, Harry spit blood into his face, something that was becoming one of his favorite means of disrespect. Voldemort only smirked and snapped his fingers. Harry moaned in pain through gritted teeth as the chains dug into his skin and wrapped tighter around him. He heard his bones grinding against each other and he felt another rib break from the pressure.

The chains loosened and Voldemort waved one of the death eaters forward. The mask was taken off to reveal the face of Draco Malfoy. He sneered at Harry and whispered close to his ear, "You killed my father. You've ruined my life since the day I met you Potter. You've taken everything away from me and I'm going to do the same. Your friend, the weasel, he'll be screaming in pain as I stab his gut and drag his entrails through the wound. Buck-tooth and the Weaslette will do what they were born to do. To serve pure-bloods like myself. I'll break them and tell them how it was because of you that this happened to them." He laughed cruelly and shot a Cruciatis at Harry.

Harry screamed in pain, but Draco's words cut deeper. The images of his friends, his family dying because of him, hurt him on a profound level. His eyes focused through the pain to see Draco's face lighting up in glee. The feeling that Harry had earlier came back in full force. Draco threatened his family; Harry was going to make sure he couldn't carry it out.

With a wave of power and a battle-cry, Harry sprung from the slab of stone and tackled Draco to the ground. Malfoy turned during the fall to land on his face. Digging his knees into Malfoy's back, Harry wrapped his forearms around Draco's neck and pulled upwards. He vaguely heard Draco's cries for help over his own screams as crucios hit his body. He twisted with his arms in opposite directions and he heard the distinct crack of Draco's neck snapping. Harry let go and succumbed to the pain, blacking out.

* * *

Blaise woke up with a yawn as Pansy roused her from her nap. She heard her saying something, but Blaise paid it no mind as she picked up Xera who was pawing at her belly, hungry for food. Reaching into the messenger bag she had pulled out from her trunk earlier, Blaise pulled out a small can of cat food and opened it with her wand. Xera dug into it with a hungry meow, the small smacking of her lips being heard as she ate hungrily. She was running her hands through Xera's fur when she heard what Pansy was saying.

"What did you say about Potter?"

"He never showed up on the train. His friends went up and down, asking for him and nobody ever saw Potter step onto the train or enter a compartment. Rumor is that he skipped out his last year because of something to do with Dumbledore. Remember how he was getting all the special training last year. They think it has something to do with that."

Blaise's eyebrows rose in speculation. Potter had said that he was looking for something and that his best bet would be the Hogwarts' library. He didn't seem like he was lying at the time, but then again she wasn't paying attention to his words. Blaise was distracted from her thoughts as Xera pawed at her belly again. Vanishing away the can, Blaise pulled out the baby bottle full of milk and held it to Xera's lips. Xera had been with her for three years, but she still acted like a baby.

"Maybe Potter missed the train, Pans."

"That's the other rumor. He got attacked by You-know-who and he's been kidnapped. Knowing Potter's luck, he's probably been captured by the Dark Lord."

Blaise felt a sense of unease flow into her. She pitied whoever winded up in his clutches. She shivered as she took away Xera's bottle and put it back in the messenger bag, while Pansy continued to mutter about the rumors concerning Potter and while Xera licked herself clean. Standing up and putting her bag over her shoulder and around her neck. Blaise followed Pansy out the compartment with Xera walking behind her.

Eyes immediately narrowed down upon seeing the Slytherin crest on their robes. Sneers and glares were pasted on the faces of the Gryffindors. Blaise just smiled sweetly at them and waved her hand daintily. She laughed when she saw their confused looks. She probably realized that she shouldn't be rousing the sleeping lions, but if they weren't gonna be nice to her, she wasn't gonna be nice to them.

The carriage ride to Hogwarts was filled with a sense of dread. People kept looking out the windows, looking for something or someone. Stepping out the carriage and lining up with the rest of her housemates, Blaise saw as the Gryffindors looked through every line, searching for Potter. A group of Potter's dorm mates came up to the Slytherins and were about to open their mouths when Professor Flitwick appeared.

The Gryffindors shuffled back into their line after sending several glares her way. Following the crowd into the Great Hall, Pansy took her customary seat in the middle of the Slytherin table, her back to the wall. Blaise joined her at her right, putting Xera on her lap as she waited for the food to come.

There were loud whispers ringing through the Hall. Blaise scanned the Hall and saw the worried and apprehensive looks on the first years and the looks of dread on the older years. The Gryffindors were by far the worst, most of them jumpy as they looked at the empty spot between Weasley and Granger.

Dinner passed with no peculiar events, save when Headmistress McGonagall had paused during her speech when she saw the empty seat that was for Potter, but she had recovered quickly. Her house had gotten only four new students and they all look terrified. There were two girls and two boys. The girls were twins with blond hair in curls that ended at their shoulders, their blue eyes holding intelligence but also wary with some fear of what the other houses might do. They boys appeared to be friends but were different as night and day. One had the blond hair and blue eyes similar to the girls, but his facial features were different. The other had tanned skin with black hair and dark black eyes.

Turning away from them, she handed Xera a small sliver of salmon as the plates disappeared. After another speech, where McGonagall stated that she would not name the Head Girl and Head Boy for another week because of certain problems, she bade them good night and dismissed them. Moving into the main hallway, the crowd stopped and piled to the windows. There were shouts of joy at first that soon turned into screams.

Pushing her way past them, Blaise moved to the windows and saw a lone figure flying on a broom towards Hogwarts. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Weasley and Granger open the doors and run outside. Following them she saw as the figure slid down from his broom and hit the ground. Thankfully he wasn't that high up as he was already coming down to land. The person was lying face down in the dirt. Moving Granger and Weasley aside, Blaise turned over the body and hissed in shock.

It was Potter, but every inch of his body was covered in bruises. His shirt had been ripped off and you could see the welts from a whip marring his body. His collarbone looked broken and his torso was bruised heavily, his ribs probably broken as well. His arms had cuts up and down the length of them, his arm popping out at disjointed angles. His hands were a mess, each finger individually broken, fingernails were gone, cuts along the palm and webbing of his fingers. His pelvis and hipbones were broken along with his legs, and his ankles were twisted in the opposite direction. Add to that was that he had a knife burrowed in his chest up to the hilt, tacking a note to his body.

She could smell his blood. It had an exotic and alluring scent to it, something that spoke raw animalistic power, but it was tainted. She hissed again as she realized the stink of dark magic that lingered over his body. She looked over at Granger to see a look of shock on her face. She snapped at her, "Granger! Go fetch Professor Hagrid!" To her surprise, Granger didn't even give it a second thought and ran back towards Hogwarts.

Coming back in less than two minutes, the half-giant picked up Harry in his tree-trunk arms and ran back into the castle. Trying to keep up with his long strides, Blaise hurried after him, hearing the shocked gasps and muffled screams as people looked at Potter's condition. Shrugging off her robes she draped them over Potter's body so no one could look at him.

Stepping into the hospital wing, Blaise called out for Madame Promfrey as Professor Hagrid placed Potter on a bed. Promfrey gasped as she saw Potter and ran to her cupboards to fetch an assortment of vials. The hospital wing doors crashed open to reveal Granger, Weasley, Headmistress McGonagall, Tonks and Lupin, each of them casting looks of despair at Potter's bed.

Blaise moved to stand beside Tonks and filled her in on all the injuries that she had seen. Tonks held her hand to her mouth as Blaise listed all the injuries one by one. She heard a snarl behind her and looked to see former Professor Lupin, his eyes flashing amber. She recalled that he was a werewolf and that they became extremely protective of their cubs when near the full moon.

She turned to see the others, watching as Granger wringed her hands in front of her in exasperation, Weasley shifting between looking helpless and sending her a glare. She scoffed inwardly, as if she had anything to do with Potter's condition. She saw as Promfrey rushed back to Potter with McGonagall behind her floating over the various potions. Before they could even begin to treat Potter, something happened.

A dark blue spark of electricity traveled from Potter's heart and coursed its way through his body. That raw, animalistic power she had sensed earlier was wrapping itself around Potter, encasing him. She heard Potter gasp and draw in a deep breath as he was lifted into the air, hovering horizontally over the bed. The dark blue light encased his body, the crackling sound of pure power pounding her ears. With a bright flash of light, Blaise shielded her eyes as it stung them. In her ears she heard a powerful roar. Looking around, she wasn't sure if anyone else had heard it and she wasn't about to voice her thoughts.

The light faded and Potter settled back in the bed, looking none the worse for wear. The clothes that he had left were burned off and Promfrey covered him with the white hospital sheets before she could get a good look. She cursed herself for even thinking something like that during this situation. Madame Promfrey ran her wand over his body, murmuring something. She announced that his body had been healed completely, but he now had a severe case of magical exhaustion, his energy levels reduced to those near a squib.

"I've…seen that happen before," Blaise turned to hear Tonks as she spoke in a whisper, "During the fight…at Diagon. He had been bloodied up pretty bad. I gave him some potions and some small bit of healing to stabilize him. But when he saw Remus get knocked out by Bellatrix, he snapped and started running towards her. I…heard something like lighting, but I thought it was just the weather cause it was raining."

Promfrey turned sharply to Tonks, "So this has happened before? You have seen it yourself?"

Tonks tensed and spoke back, "I told you, I didn't see it exactly. But he healed way too fast on his own. I didn't think about it until now."

Before Promfrey could respond, McGonagall raised her hands and spoke, "Quiet! We can talk about this at another time. Mr. Potter needs his rest in order to gain back his magic and we are not helping. Everyone go to sleep, you can visit him tomorrow, but for now we let him rest." Her voice ceased any and all arguments. With one last look at Potter's face, Blaise walked out of the hospital wing.

On the way down to the Slytherin common room, people asked her what she had seen but she paid them no mind. When inside Slytherin house, more people asked her the same questions, but she just went down the hall and into her dorm room, the image of a bruised and battered Harry Potter running through her head.

**A/N: There you go people! People tell me that I'm doing a good job of keeping the pace with the romantic progress between Harry and Blaise. I hope this chapter didn't throw that off, but I hope I gave a good insight as to how she was thinking of Potter.**

**For those Pansy haters, I apologize, but I love Pansy. She is my third favorite female character, right behind Blaise, then Tonks. She will be in this story and she won't be super evil. Just bitchy, fun and sarcastic.**

**Allright, I had gotten a review in chapter 4 from Greatputt, who felt that I healed Harry too quickly. This chapter gives you a little glimpse into how he healed so fast. Put it with what happened in the last chapter and you can piece something together. So Greatputt, hope that clears something up for ya.**

**I hope I gave a good torture scene for this story. Most ones that I read just zap Harry with a couple of Crucios and that's that. So I wanted to focus on the physical aspect with the death eaters. Something like how they don't think Potter is worth their magic to be wasted on.**

**Okay, I'm signing off, but I have one last thing to say. I have three HP stories in circulation and update order is as follows. King and Queen is first, followed by You'll never have to, then rounding out the list is Morality of the Young. So, this story is updated, next in line is You'll never have to. So this story will be updated with a week to two weeks.**


	10. Hospital Visits

-1**King and Queen; Stone and Snow**

**A/N: Sorry I've been away so long. I had the most horrible computer problem. It was freezing and the battery port refused to charge. But it's gone now, cause there is a new computer in the house with a 17 inch screen. Woohoo!**

**Anyway, again apologies for the wait. This chapter gives more detail into what is happening with Harry, also a Hermione segment, one for Blaise and then some interaction with Blaise and Harry.**

**I know I said that in this chapter I recount how Harry got out of Voldemort's clutches, but this chapter was already long enough and so I made it a filler chapter, setting up the plotlines and such.**

**And now without further ado, I present to you this chapter. May you enjoy.**

**Chapter 10: Hospital Visits**

Today was Saturday, the second of September, and it had been one day, or rather one night since the appearance of one broken and bleeding mass known as Harry James Potter had arrived at the front gates of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. Madame Promfrey sat upright, having been roused from her sleep by the alarm she had set earlier. Rubbing her eyes to dispel the vestiges of sleep, Poppy wrapped her fingers around the smooth oak of her wand, she flicked it upward and then brought it down in a diagonal slash downward from left to right.

A simple diagnostic charm aimed at the permanent fixture in her hospital for the last six years, revealed that all bones that were broken had been knitted, all cuts mended, the dark magic that had been keeping his wounds from healing had been purged. In most cases, she would be proud of her skill as a healer for doing such an outstanding job, but none of this was her work.

She slowly ran her hand along the transparent dome that had in all essence, cocooned young Mr. Potter. It had formed shortly after his extraordinary burst of magic that healed him. In their attempts to get rid of it, the dome had reacted violently, attacking them with raw magic until they stopped their own attack. However, when medical spells were cast, the dome did not react, it actually allowed the spell to pass through.

To Promfrey it suggested that Mr. Potter's magic is protecting its charge and has the sense to realize when a spell is non-threatening. She did not care for the technical nature of it, just as long as it did not actively harm her patient, she could see no reason for it to not stay.

A circle motion of her wand with a cross in the middle gave her a readout of Mr. Potter's magical level. After the strong magical outburst, Harry's magic had been reduced to the levels of a squib. Six hours later, his magic had regenerated to the levels that were recorded at the end of his sixth year. Ten minutes after that, his magic had expelled itself again, forming the transparent dome. Since then his magic had steadily been restoring itself at a rate that was three times faster than a normal wizard.

Summoning a set of records from her office, she pulled out Harry's record. The scale of a witch or wizards magic is measured from 1-200, with most adults averaging out at the low 80's to low 90's and muggles having no numerical value at all. Most first year students start power level are from 10-12 and by the end of the year there would be a jump of 5-10 points. Pulling out Harry's record from first year, he was an average wizard in terms of power at the beginning of the school year. At the end of the school year however, his magic levels jumped by twenty points.

The same result happened at the end of the second year and each subsequent year after that. In each case, Harry had been brought back in states of near death, magical exhaustion and mental stress. Writing down some figures on the records, Poppy noted that Harry's magic had increased at an astonishing rate. In his last visit, Harry's magic had been recorded at 110, twenty points above the average and he had not even reached his magical maturity yet. With the rate at which Harry's magic was restoring itself, he would be back at full strength within another day.

Of course, seeing as how he came back hanging to life by a thread that was rapidly burning, the mental stress of being the Dark Lords prisoner, Poppy would not be surprised to see another spike in his levels. In all actuality, she was hoping for it, so that he could better protect himself for longer the next time.

She turned her head as the yew doors of the hospital wing opened, granting entrance to Minerva. She came up to Harry's bed and slightly ran her finger through his hair. "How is he?"

Minerva always had a soft spot for her Gryffindors, James Potter and Lily Evans being most special to her. It seemed that Harry had wormed his way into Minerva's heart even if he did not know it.

"There is something you should see," said Poppy. Minerva turned to her with a wary look in her eye. Poppy began to explain her theory on Harry's magic, it's exponential growth spurts. She also made the claim that Harry's own magic saved him, a type of defensive measure that had been known to happen before.

Minerva listened intently, making sure to not miss anything of importance. After some time, she spoke, "So, in all essence he will heal with no lingering effects?" A nod and she continued, "What can you tell me about this dome that has surrounded Mr. Potter?"

"Well, as you've seen, it deflects any harmful spells at Mr. Potter, back towards their caster. No physical items can breach it, nor items imbued with a magical properties. The only thing that has passed through are spells of a benign nature."

"What do you mean that only spells of a benign nature will pass?"

"It only allows harmless spells to pass, because they will not endanger it's host, speaking frankly." Poppy saw Minerva pause at this, her mouth opening to speak, but she closed it shut and motioned for her to continue. "The dome, or rather his magic, reacts aggressively to anyone that seeks active harm towards it or Harry. It reasons that if something attacks it, then that something is perceived as a threat toward its charge."

"Are you saying that it has some form of intelligence?"

"No. It only protects its host, a defensive nature to protect Harry. It is only instinctive, no actual intelligence. It only reacts, not acts."

Minerva sighed, her stature drooping before she collected herself, "You said that his magic reacts to any nature of negative intent? Will this continue even after his magic goes back into his body and is no longer physically present?"

Poppy narrowed her eyes slightly at the question, but answered nonetheless, "I am not certain. And there have been no recording of this defensive magic acting in this manner. What are you getting at Minerva?"

"Mr. Potter will have a lot of enemies this year, both outside and within the school. I fear that…certain parties will seek to harm him and his magic could last out wildly, possibly harming any people in the immediate area."

Seeing where this might be leading, Poppy pinned Minerva with her hardest glare, "You better not say what I think you are going to say."

Minerva returned the glare with one of her own, "Harry is prone to emotional outbursts, his magic reacting more than most. With what has just happened now, his magic can strike out at others, even for the most minor hexes from anyone that means him harm. And with his magical strength, this could prove to be fatal towards the people that attack him."

Poppy wanted to yell at Minerva, but she knew that Minerva was placing the welfare of the entire student body over one. That was her job as Headmistress. She was only thinking logically, "In that case, Harry would have be expelled for being a endangerment to the school. But both of us know that is not an option.

Minerva nodded her head in agreement and when she spoke, her voice was controlled, betraying none of the emotions brewing behind her façade, "No we can not let that happen. Dumbledore explicitly told me in a letter I received after his…death…and he told me that Harry must return to Hogwarts and that I should assist him in any way possible. I don't think leaving him outside these walls for him to die will be helping him. So what can we do?"

"Short of suppressing his magic there is nothing we can do but trust that Harry can control his emotions," said Poppy. Seeing that Minerva's lips were pursed, she knew that answer wasn't good enough. "A month. We give him a month starting as soon as he wakes. If in that month, he harms anyone through his magic, then we can consider putting him in a isolated part of the castle. If he doesn't attack anyone, then he stays among the student population."

Minerva nodded tightly to the plan Poppy had set. They talked for a few moments more after that, then she left to consult the grim matter with one particular portrait.

(Scene Break)

It was Sunday. A muffled groan came out from under the viridian color of the blankets. A cat's meow was heard next, followed by the soft padding of the cat's feet as it walked towards the head of the bed. Making sure her claws were sheathed, the cat lightly swatted at the head of it's mistress. The blankets came down slightly, a head of mussed ebony hair poking through along with the sight of a stunning pair of crimson eyes, currently glaring at the annoying cat.

Xera paid Blaise no mind as she started to lick her paw clean. With a muttered oath, Blaise sat up in the bed, stretching her arms above her head, not even bothering to cover the yawn from her mouth. Opening the curtains that surrounded her bed, Blaise gave a precious thanks to Salazar Slytherin for putting his house in the dungeons. No annoying sun to wake her up in the morning. This may have annoyed others of her house, but she was very fond of that feature. It was just a tad cold in her opinion.

Swinging her long and slender legs over the bed, her feet resting on the plush forest green carpet, Blaise looked over at the other bed that occupied the room. There was a number of items strewn across that part of the room, everything belonging to her best friend, Pansy Parkinson. Slytherins were different than any other house in regard to their last year of schooling. Instead of all of the same sex class staying in one room, they were allowed to have their own room or to share with another.

Being friends for close to seven years, since the second day of Hogwarts, Blaise and Pansy had decided to room together, the other three girls of seventh year deciding to be in singles. Padding across the room in a manner similar to her familiar, avoiding the clutter of knick-knacks on the floor, Blaise flung the curtains open and had to stop from laughing at the sight.

Pansy's head was not anywhere near the pillows, instead hanging off the foot of the bed, her limbs hanging at odd angles, the blankets clearly thrown about in her sleep. Placing her hand near Pansy's forehead, Blaise held her breath for a moment and then flicked her straight on the temple.

A startled yelp and curse were the precursor to Pansy's spectacular fall from the bed. Blaise collapsed on the newly vacated spot, arms crossed over her belly, trying in vain to hold in her laughter. The fit of laughing helped to chase away the vestiges of her doom and gloom nightmares. She quieted down after a few minutes to find Pansy sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her, occasionally looking back to send a glare Blaise's way.

Rolling off the bed, she moved towards her trunk. Opening the lid and rummaging through it, she pulled back out with a gift for Pansy that would surely erase any ill will left over from her prank. Conjuring a spoon, she presented her gift of "Ben and Jerry's" strawberry cheesecake ice cream. Ice cream had always been Pansy's weakness and was usually accepted as a gift of apology. However, if you gave her ice cream that tasted horrible, she would curse you so bad that a hospital visit became necessary.

With a speculative gleam in her eyes, Pansy took both items in her hands. Opening the container and taking a small spoonful, she parted her lips and ate the dessert. She closed her eyes and let out a content sigh before closing the lid on the ice cream and casting a cooling charm on it.

"Forgiven?" said Blaise with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Forgiven," said Pansy as she started for her drawer to find clothes for the day.

Blaise moved to do the same. After she was dressed, she slipped the drab colored robe of Hogwarts over head. Once Pansy was done, the both of them moved out of their room and down the hallway. Boys and girls of Slytherin had their dorms down separate halls, seventh years had the first rooms, then sixth, and so on. Blaise remembered her first year vividly, all those steps accumulated over the year to reach her room at the end of the hall way.

She moved into the common room, black leather chairs and couches situated around a deep pit in the center of the room. The pit had steps that led down to it, so the students can sit down near it during the winter time, when a magical fire would light up to beat back the cold. As she walked towards the portrait that was a picture of a noble knight clad in black armor with a green and silver cape, she felt several pairs of eyes watching her. Out of the shadows came the tall and lanky build of Theodore Nott, at his side the human boulders, Crabbe and Goyle. With small watery eyes, a permanent sour expression on his face, a hairline that was already receding, Nott did not make a pretty picture, either up close or far away.

It seemed to Blaise that Nott had taken up Malfoy's previous position of being the little King of Slytherin, as she noted most of the sixth and fifth years looking up to him in this little confrontation. Blaise didn't speak, it would show impatience on her part and that would give Nott a little victory.

"Rumor is that you went up with Potter's cronies to the hospital wing."

Blaise didn't say anything to Nott's comment, waiting for him to get to whatever point he was trying to make. She gave a little smirk as his expression turned into a scowl.

"Rumor also has it that you saw what condition Potter was in." Blaise's smirk grew into a wide smile as Nott became frustrated with her silence. "Well?!"

She gave him a confused expression, "Well what?"

"Well what was his condition?"

"Oh Nott, I didn't know that you cared about Potter in that way. I'll be sure to pass on your feelings if I see him again," said Blaise as she stood there smiling like a coyote. She was careful to say the word "if" so as to not make it sound as if she was in contact with Potter on a normal routine. She also couldn't resist making that little remark against Nott for interrupting her on her way to breakfast. She wasn't disappointed to see his face go red and she decided to play up on it. "Aww, Nott you're blushing!"

Snickers were heard throughout the room as Nott turned even redder. He tried to scowl at the onlookers to stop them from laughing, but it only urged them on. Sending a hateful glare at Blaise, Nott turned on his heel and shoved his way past his inherited lackeys, the dumbfounded expressions evident on Crabbe and Goyle's faces as they chased after their new leader.

Moving up to the portrait, Blaise spoke the traditional password at the beginning of the year, "Pureblood." She listened to Pansy ramble on about her ruined reputation that came for putting on appearances with Malfoy so her parents would think they were getting along. How she would have to put in some effort to get the person that caught her eye, instead of him just coming to her. She smiled at Pansy's words, a drama queen if there ever was one, but she was fun to hang around with. Plus she knew that Blaise was a vampire, simply saying when she found out, "At least you don't have to go costume shopping for Halloween."

Rounding the corner and walking towards the double doors that led to the Great Hall, she pulled back the flap on her messenger bag and she was unsurprised to see that Xera had snuck in when she wasn't looking. The cat stuck her head out of the bag, meowing at the prospect of food. Pansy opened the doors and she followed through, immediately feeling the stares coming from the Gryffindor table.

Sitting down at her House table, she piled her plate with food and on another plate, she placed a small piece of fish for Xera. She tuned back in to Pansy's current ramblings.

"…just you watch Blaise, he'll come crawling to me in no time," said Pansy before she bit into a bagel.

"Are you ever going to tell me who this mystery man is, or even if it is a man?" said Blaise, earning her a pinch on her thigh from Pansy.

"Yes, Countess, it is a man," said Pansy.

Blaise scowled at what Pansy called her. Countess, was a play on the fact that she was a half-vampire, a damphir if you wanted to be technical, stemming from the muggle myth of Count Dracula. Blaise hated it when Pansy called her that and she bloody well knew that.

The rest of breakfast passed with nothing else worth noting for, save the lack of energy that showed itself in Gryffindor's subdued attitude. Her eyes scanned up and down the table and she noticed that the two Weasley's and Granger weren't there. _'Probably up in the hospital wing sitting next to Potter,'_ she thought.

With no class for today and yesterday, Blaise decided to review some of her class material from the year before so she wasn't sloppy come the first day of classes. She also tried to push back the annoying voice in her head that was telling her to go to the hospital wing and check in on her new friend.

'_Was he a friend?'_ she wondered. _'Let's see, we've known of each other for about seven years. We've only spoken to each other for two days…but there was the whole shopping experience that lasted several hours.'_ She shrugged to herself, not knowing where to place Potter on her mental list. She decided to temporarily mark him under acquaintance/possible friend. Time would tell what happened between the two.

(Scene Break)

It was Wednesday afternoon. Hermione was sitting in a chair, her transfiguration textbook in her lap, a piece of parchment spread out next to it. Hermione was hunched over her work, furiously scribbling the answers to the theoretical questions that Headmistress McGonagall had assigned.

Hermione was incredibly thankful that Professor McGonagall had decided to teach the NEWT level of Transfiguration. If there had been a new teacher, there would have been a difference of style, time would have been lost as students struggled to adapt, and the concerns that the new teacher would not be as good as Professor McGonagall was a key concern in her mind. All of that was put to rest when she decided to teach the seventh year classes for the last time.

Hermione was about to pen down her hypothesis on animagus transformations when there was a blinding flash of light. Gasping she looked towards Harry's bed. The light grew brighter and she had to close her eyes from the brightness of it. It vanished in a matter of seconds and she peaked through her eyelashes to see that the transparent dome that had surrounded Harry was gone.

Remembering the information she had gleamed from Madame Promfrey, Hermione came up with two guesses as to what happened. 1) Harry had been restored to stable physical and magical health; and 2) that he was dead and with no life in him, his magic ceased to work.

Forcing herself to get up out of the chair and to not burst into hysterics, Hermione placed two fingers on Harry's neck. There it was, a strong steady pulse. She almost shouted her joy, but she remembered where she was. Hurrying over to Madame Promfrey's office, she knocked twice, waited for an answer and then knocked again. After knocking for the fourth time, the door opened to an irate Promfrey, with bags under her eyes.

"What is this time Ms. Granger? A supposed twitch, his breathing speeding up, his eye opening, his hair moving of it's own accord?"

Hermione felt her face flush in embarrassment. She had repeatedly called on Madame Promfrey for every little time she thought she saw something. She had hoped she hadn't annoyed her. Obviously she was wrong. Instead of answering, she merely pointed. Promfrey walked past her, muttering under her breath, and she followed.

Hermione sat back down on her chair with a smug smile on her face as she saw Madame Promfrey silently run through the motions of checking Harry's breathing, heart rate, and magical levels.

"Well Ms. Granger, it seems that you actually did good calling for me this time, unlike all the others. Mr. Potter now just needs bed rest, his body having just gone through a great ordeal. He should be on his feet within two to four days. So, Ms. Granger, your friend should make a full recovery," said Promfrey as she walked past Hermione and towards her office, supposedly to try and catch some more sleep.

Hermione moved closer to Harry, everything that he had experienced since he was introduced into the magic world running through her mind. He had already faced so much and there was still the matter of the Horcruxes and Voldemort to contend with. She was tempted to wake him to find out what his thoughts on the locations of the Horcruxes were, but decided not to.

Picking up her things, Hermione swept out of the hospital wing. She went to the Gryffindor common room and told Ron and Ginny the good news. They whooped and hollered and the good news spread around to the rest of the tower. Hermione sat down on her favorite chair in front of the fireplace, a table in front of her with her work spread out. She saw butterbeers that were being passed around that someone had pulled out from a hidden cache. She didn't have the heart to reprimand them for doing so, they were happy, and so was she. She just showed it in a different way.

_State the three universal laws of Transfiguration and how they are used in everyday spells._

Hermione began to write down her paper, a smile on her face.

(Scene Break)

It was Thursday evening. Blaise was sitting down in one of the plush red velvet chairs in front of the Headmistress' desk. McGonagall was sitting behind said desk, nursing a cup of tea. Blaise sat with her back straight, hands laced together on her lap, waiting for whatever McGonagall had to say. She was watching the Headmistress carefully, never breaking eye contact.

After some time, McGonagall broke away first. With a sigh, she set down her cup of tea to stare at the young lady before her, "Ms. Zabini, can you please state for me, what happened as soon as Mr. Potter crashed down onto school grounds?"

"As soon as he landed, Granger and Weasley who were already there went into hysterics. Granger was babbling, almost screaming, and Weasley was staring straight ahead with his mouth hanging open. I had to yell at Granger to go get Professor Hagrid in order for me to get through to her. The professor came, picked up Potter and started running towards the castle. I threw my robes over Potter so no one would see what happened to him. Then we got to the hospital wing and you know what happened after that," said Blaise, wondering in her head why the Headmistress wanted to know this.

Minerva sat there contemplating Ms. Zabini's answer. Her face was unreadable, as well as her voice. The girl did not know why she was called up here and so she had no reason to lie. Minerva knew next to nothing about Ms. Zabini save that she had never run in the same group with Draco Malfoy. All the information Minerva did have was her academic record which was impressive. In the top five for overall grades, behind Ms. Granger who was at the top and three Ravenclaws in between the two.

She also had the account that Nymphadora Tonks had given her. Ms. Zabini seemed to be on amicable terms with Mr. Potter. Friendly enough that they could be in the same room with each other, and not so friendly that she went into shambles every time he was injured.

Minerva had already chosen Mr. Potter for Head Boy because he was a natural leader. There was a presence around him that rallied the other students to him and they would listen to him. He wasn't the best academic student, having been above average in most classes, a dunce in some, and a genius in others. Still she needed someone who the students would listen to and all the other candidates were mainly in the shadows and hardly interacted with any people outside their house. He already had proven leadership with his DA club in fifth year, interacting with other houses. So he had easily become her choice for Head Boy.

When it came to Head Girl, she had already chosen Ms. Granger prior to the beginning of the school year. She was top of her class, she was a stickler for rules, she kept Mr. Potter from acting too rashly, and Minerva was sure that she would be able to influence Mr. Potter into becoming more rule-abiding and become a prime example of how to act. She had to retract her decision when she kept receiving letters from Ms. Granger concerning Mr. Potter during the summer. She also fell apart with the state Mr. Potter was in when he arrived and she wasn't able to coral the students into going back into their houses.

Along with what Poppy had told her of Ms. Granger's behavior when Harry was in the hospital, it all pointed to the fact that Hermione became so worried with Harry's health that she tend to forget her duties. Ms. Zabini did not suffer this affliction. She was not emotionally attached to any boy in school and if she was, then she hid it very well. She was intelligent and has had only two detentions her school career.

The only problem that Minerva had with naming Ms. Zabini as Head Girl was Harry's past considering Slytherins. Something had obviously changed the mindset of the boy, according to what Tonks had said concerning that the blossoming friendship that the two seemed to be having.

Minerva knew of what Harry had to do, thanks to Albus' portrait. Honestly, what could the man have been thinking to heap the world's problems onto the boy? Harry would leave the school from time to time, searching for these Horcruxes and he would obviously take Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger with him. If Ms. Granger was named Head Girl, that would leave the school with no one to control the students and prefects except for the professors.

Minerva opened the bottom left drawer of her desk and pulled out two pins. Minerva needed one authority figure at the school at all times and that would be impossible if both Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger were those authority figures. She handed the silver pin with the letters 'HG' engraved in green to Ms. Zabini. Minerva finally saw an emotion crack through the girls mask.

"Ms. Zabini, concerning Ms. Granger's behavior towards Mr. Potter, it has been proven to me that she would not be able to attend to her duties if he was ever to be injured again. I do not believe that you have such a problem and that you _will_ be able to handle the pressure that comes with being Head Girl, along with your schoolwork, and the responsibility in reigning in the student body?"

"I think it's safe to say that I can."

"I hope so, Ms. Zabini," said McGonagall. Picking up the other pin, she handed it over, "Can you go to the hospital wing and place this on Mr. Potter's bedside table. And if he is awake, would you tell him congratulations on being selected Head Boy?"

Blaise took the gold pin with the letters 'HB' engraved in scarlet, "A Gryffindor and Slytherin being selected? I don't think this has ever happened before."

"Sadly it hasn't. I trust that along with all the aforementioned responsibilities that you will be able to at least converse with Mr. Potter in friendly terms?"

"Potter and I can at least talk to each other without coming to wands, so you don't have to worry about that," said Blaise. She didn't want to give that little tidbit to McGonagall, but she had just been offered the position of Head Girl and she had to reassure the Headmistress that she could get the job done and not fall into a petty rivalry.

"That's at least one worry put to rest. See that it stays that way Ms. Zabini," said Minerva as she picked up her cup of Earl Grey tea.

Blaise knew a dismissal when she heard one. Closing her hand around the pair of badges, she stood up and moved towards the door. It swung open, seemingly of it's own accord. Once past the stairs and the stone gargoyle, she turned left, then a right, up the stairs to the hospital wing. Waving her wand in front of her, she muttered _Tempus_ under her breath. A ghostly image formed in front of her as she walked towards the doors of the hospital wing. It was 9:15 pm. Curfew was at 10:00 pm. Prefects and Heads were allowed an extra hour past curfew to patrol the corridors for any people that were still up wandering.

Blaise allowed herself a small smile for being named Head Girl. She hadn't been chosen as a prefect for fifth, sixth, or seventh year, with other Slytherins being chosen for the control that their families had on the School Governors Board. Add that the Head of House was responsible for choosing Prefects and that hers was Horace Slughorn, a man who valued well established connections above all else, her hopes of becoming a seventh year Prefect, seemed very slim.

So the silver badge she held in her hand was quite the shock for her. As well as the one she held for Potter. She was sure their were more qualified people for Head Boy. McGonagall probably had her reasons for picking Potter, as well as for picking her. She along with the majority of the school believed that Head Girl was going to Granger.

She had reached the doors. There was a slight crack in between them and through it she could make out the several figures, talking in hushed whispers. As she walked into the room, the conversations stopped, the figures drawing themselves up from their hunched forms. She walked further and from the dim light of the lit candelabras, she made out the faces of Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, and Hermione Granger.

She kept her face impassive while the male Weasley plastered an ugly sneer across his face. The morning after Potter's arrival, he had confronted her, asking what she and the rest of the "slimy snakes" had done to his friend. The boy was ignorant and hopeless, confronting her in front of a public audience where any smart person would deny his accusations and then turn his stupidity back at him for accosting them in such a manner.

Granger had confronted her at a later date, in a abandoned classroom on the seventh floor, out of sight of the eyes and ears of the portraits and students. She made no accusations however, just stating that she would give her the benefit of the doubt because she had saved Potter's life.

Pulling herself back into the present moment, she slid her gaze along each of their faces. That ugly sneer was still present on Weasley's face, Granger's lips were pursed thinly, and the female Weasley was currently glaring at her with an awful amount of fire behind her eyes..

She discreetly sniffed the air, another vampire trait, being able to pick up on the emotions of other people through their scents. The red heads were angry that much was obvious, but Granger was emitting a kind of nervousness that increased when she looked at Potter. A matter for another time.

Ignoring them, she walked towards Potter's bed, aware of the stares at her back. She looked over his face, the strong jaw, the hint of stubble on his chin and jaw line, the ridge of his nose that had a slight dent from where his glasses were usually perched. And there on his brow, the prominent lightning bolt scar, a small cloud of dark magic hiding there. A curse scar from Lord Voldemort.

Pulling the badges from out of her robes, she placed Potter's on the bedside table. With one last look at him, she turned and walked away. Weasley rushed past her, probably to see what she had left. Halfway to the door, she heard a series of shocked gasps. A quarter of the way there, urgent whispering. At the door, a hand wrapped itself around her elbow. Blaise spun on her foot to be face to face with Granger, an anxious look on her face.

"That was the Head Boy badge, I presume for Harry. Do you happen to know who was selected for Head Girl?"

With a smirk on her face, Blaise pulled out the other badge. She saw the look of joy on Granger's face, thinking that she had won it. Saw as it turned to a confounded expression as the silver shone in the dim light. A hint of anger and shock, mixed together as Blaise pinned it to the front of her robes, opposite the Slytherin patch. Granger's grip slackened and Blaise walked out of the hospital wing, the smirk turning into a small smile as she heard of another round of hushed conversation picking up in the hospital wing.

(Scene Break)

It was Saturday, a week since he had arrived at Hogwarts, but he didn't know that. He didn't know how his magic had reacted, how the rest of the students had a small amount of fear installed in them from the rumors circulating over his stay in the hospital wing. He didn't know he had been named Head Boy two days ago, that Hermione Granger hadn't been named Head Girl and that in her anger she would snap at anyone that asked her why she wasn't chosen.

What he did know was that his throat was dry, he was thirsty, and that his eyes hurt when he tried to open them, the glaring sunlight that had poured in through an open window hitting his eyes. He felt something on top of him, it felt crisp and was smooth to the touch. And there was a scent in the air was associated with…the hospital wing. He sighed in disgust, he hated the hospital wing.

Well, if he knew that he was in here, then he knew that Madame Promfrey would be nearby. She usually had a spell on him that told her when he was awake, his numerous hospital stays cluing him in on that nugget of information. You only had to make enough movement to activate it or make a loud enough noise. He didn't feel like turning his body to the side because he was comfortable where he was. Wriggling his fingers, he tapped them against the metal bar on his right side, the clanging of the metal starting up the ping of the alarm.

He heard hurried footsteps along the marble floor of the room. A slight rush of air as Promfrey stopped her movement, a pair of warm fingers pressed against his neck, a spell hitting him a few moments later. He let her run her check-up on him for ten more minutes before he spoke, "How…was…your…summer?"

He grinned lazily as he heard her snort or scoff, he didn't know which. Then came her voice which could be as smooth as honey or as harsh as the bitter cold, currently it was the latter, "Silly boy, asking me about my summer after all you've been through. Oh, what will I do with you? Any discomfort at all?"

He cracked open his eyes just a bit to see her face set in a concerned expression, "Throat's…dry…" he whispered hoarsely. He felt her hand cup the back of his head, lifting it slightly. A cup of water pressed against his lips, slowly tilting it, letting the refreshing ice cold water pour down into his mouth. A pair of fingers rubbing his throat to let the water pass down more smoothly.

A couple more hours passed on after that, with her mostly talking about the current Hogwarts news. He was shocked to hear Hermione hadn't gotten Head Girl, but he was sure that McGonagall must have had a very good reason for not doing so. He groaned in displeasure when he heard the mood of the students and how it was directly tied to him. _'Great,"_ he thought, _'They obviously still look up to me to save them. I hate being hero-worshipped.'_

Then he received what he thought was by far the worst news possible. He could have no Hogwarts food for two weeks. No delicious chocolate pudding, treacle tart, eggs, bacon, the honey glazed ham. Since he had been in a stasis for a week, they had to feed him his nutrients through a tube connected to his arm and that it would take a while for his stomach to get use to solid foods. He could have a light broth though, more like flavored water in all actuality. And after all that lousy food at the Dursely's, he had to suffer through this.

"What time is it?" said Harry. His voice was getting better, no longer in that gruff whisper with periodic breakings as his mouth worked up enough saliva to talk.

She looked at her watch. He didn't even know that she had a watch, "It is currently 4:52 PM."

"Dinner should be in about an hour."

"I'll get one of the house elves to bring you up a light broth, like we discussed earlier," said Promfrey. She started to move, but he placed his hand on her wrist.

"Would it be okay for me to eat in the Great Hall?" he said. He saw the stern expression on her face so he elaborated, "My first meal at Hogwarts for every year has been in the Great Hall. Sort of a tradition…for good luck." It stemmed from when he had his first taste of Hogwarts food on his first night here. He remembered it clearly because it was the best meal he had ever had, actually his first real meal beside bread, a small salad, and water. He saw her forehead knit closer together, meaning she was thinking about it. Her arms folded over themselves meaning she had resigned to his position.

He unknowingly grinned that famous Potter grin at her, seeming for a moment to be just like his father after one of his quidditch injuries. Of course he knew none of that, having never known his parents. She sighed, "Very well Mr. Potter. I will allow you to go eat in the Great Hall, but if you feel the tiniest bit faint, then you come back up here. Understood?" He gave her an even wider grin, his head nodding so fast she thought it would fall off.

For the next thirty minutes, she helped him walk in place, trying to get his legs back into the idea of moving. She had reasoned that his legs would have taken longer to start walking, due to his confinement in the bed, but he was able to walk without her for a crutch within moments. She only kept him at it for so long to make sure that he wouldn't fall flat on his face and wind up breaking his nose. She had already fixed a certain Auror's so many times.

"Mr. Potter, I have called up the Head Girl here in order to take you to the Great Hall, in case you have any problems walking down the stairs," said Promfrey. "Also if you should forget the way to the Great Hall."

He scoffed at her last statement. He wasn't that out of it and it's not like he had any memory damage, she made sure of that during the time he had been awake. "Who's the Head Girl by the way? You just said that 'Mione didn't get it."

Before she could answer, the hospital doors opened and in strolled, whom he assumed to be the Head Girl. She stepped into the light and he saw, "Blaise?"

"That's right Potter. I got called her to escort you to the Great Hall and baby sit you for the rest of the night," she said with a teasing note in her voice.

"I don't need any one baby sitting me, but I do need clothes because all I have is this hospital robe."

"Well Madame Promfrey seems to think that a certain someone won't remember that they can only eat soup for dinner," said Blaise as she pulled something from her pocket, enlarged it and presented a bag to him.

Taking it, he pulled out a set of clothes from the ones that Tonks and Blaise had gotten him during the impromptu shopping trip. There was something missing though, "Where are my Hogwarts robes?"

"Head Girl and Boy are allowed to not wear their Hogwarts robes as long as they were clothes that are considered decent by the standards of the Headmistress."

He looked at the Blaise and saw for the first time that she wasn't wearing her robes. What she was wearing though caught his attention. A white shirt, a blouse he thought it was called, with the top button left open, the cuffs of the shirt ending at her forearms and a pair of dark blue jeans that flared out at the bottom. It was seemingly an ordinary outfit, nothing special about it. Still he found himself staring just a little, the clothes practically hugging her body.

He pulled the privacy curtain to close it and proceeded to change, also trying to tell himself that he had not been staring, knowing full well that he had. He pulled the robe over and off his head. Thankfully, Blaise had the foresight to bring him trousers. He pulled them on along with a pair of jeans that were kind of snug but extremely comfortable.

He trailed his fingers along the scar on his right shoulder blade, from the dragon in the Triwizard Tournament during his forth year. He did the same to the V-shaped scar on his upper forearm, also from forth year. The one on his left hip from his injuries in the Department of Mysteries at the end of fifth year. Trying not to think about how that year had ended, he pulled the shirt over his head, black with the sleeves ending at his forearms and it was a…v-neck, if he remembered the short lesson that Tonks and Blaise had given him.

After putting on his socks and shoes, he opened the curtain, "Okay, I'm ready to go and eat."

Another five minutes spent doing one last minute check of his vitals and then him and Blaise were out of there and walking down the hall. There was a companionable silence, but Harry broke it, "I see that you made Head Girl."

"Nice use of your detective skills, Potter. Did you find that out before or after you saw the badge," she said sarcastically.

He chuckled lightly, enjoying her attitude. Usually after one of his stays in the hospital, he was coddled by everyone around him. He could understand why they did, but it did get annoying. He looked down at the badge that Blaise had pinned onto his shirt after he got dressed. He was Head Boy, he couldn't believe it. He wasn't the best student, he knew that. He was average in class, broke more rules than anyone in his year, and constantly got into trouble of a deadly nature.

He looked up when Blaise tapped his shoulder, "Sorry, did you say something?"

"What I said was if you're angry, sad, or shocked that Granger didn't get the badge I'm wearing?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "I was a little shocked when I heard she didn't get it. I mean, she had been working for this ever since she heard about it. But hey, I was just as shocked that I got my badge. I'm sure that McGonagall had a pretty damn good reason for picking who she picked. She also probably had to have one when Hermione went up to her and asked her why she didn't get chosen."

She stopped and she looked at him. He grew just a tad uncomfortable from those crimson eyes staring straight at him, how they were similar to Voldemort's, but that it wasn't him staring, it was Blaise.

"That's an unusually thoughtful answer," said Blaise as she continued to stare at him.

He smiled, "You mean that I'm usually _not_ thoughtful?"

She slapped him playfully on his left shoulder, "No, you twit. I meant that considering how you acted when Malfoy poked at you and your friends, that your answer was unusual. You actually put thought into what you said instead of just reacting in a defensive and angry nature."

"Well I had a lot of time to think over the summer. I sort of had to, in a way. Look at everything that's happened to me. A lot of that is from how I acted without thinking. The old me might have reacted harshly when I found out that you were a Slytherin. The new me judged you on the fact that you had saved my life and how you were before we found out each other's names."

He started walking again and he heard her footsteps falling in time with his. "That is true, Potter. Malfoy had done everything in his power to undermine you and he was a Slytherin. You were young, so naturally you assumed we were all bad people."

He sighed, "He basically insulted the first two friends I ever had. Didn't bode too well with my eleven year old mind. Kind of sad too, cause I might have gotten to known you better if I didn't think that all Slytherins were a bunch of 'slimy snakes'."

He could hear the loud noise coming from the Great Hall, students laughing, joking with their friends, the silverware clanging against the plates. He spoke the next part in a hushed whisper, his voice no longer echoing down the hall, "Malfoy's not going to cause me any more trouble now. So you and I can be friends if you want."

"And why won't Malfoy be causing you any problems from now on?"

They were right at the entrance. He turned around to look at her, his face settling into a cold and expressionless mask, "He's dead. He threatened my friends and I made sure he wouldn't be able to carry out those threats. That's how I know."

She walked up to his side, their shoulders touching, she whispered in his ear, "It's all right, Potter. You did what you had to in order to protect the ones you care for. Besides, he was a bloody wanker to boot."

He didn't mean to, it was a serious moment, but he couldn't help it. He laughed. A full blown laugh. He laughed so hard that he had tears in his eyes. Luckily, the noise in the Hall was so loud that no one heard him. Looking at Blaise he smile and said, "That last bit was uncalled for."

She just shrugged her shoulders in imitation of him. Smirking, she said, "Just stating fact is all. Come on, there's flavored water just calling your name, waiting for you in there."

"Yeah," he said. He opened the doors to the Hall and together they walked through. He thought he would sit down without anybody noticing him, but dinner had already started, the doors had been closed, and opening them got the attention of everyone. There was complete silence for a moment before the Gryffindor table jumped up in cheers, shouting, banging their feet and fists on floor and table. Then some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws joined in, the ones that personally knew him from the D.A. during his fifth year, the rest clapping happily. The Slytherins remained sitting, some glaring at him, others continued to eat making a point of not looking at him

"Remember Potter! Just a light broth! I'll be watching to make sure that's all you get!" said Blaise, shouting to be heard over the others. He watched her walk over to her table, thinking over how she had cheered him up over his murder of one of his former classmates. He didn't think it would be so easy to get over, but it was. He had killed in order to protect Hermione and Ron…his family. And he would do it again in a heartbeat, he knew that for a fact.

He sat down between his family, Ron throwing an arm over his shoulder in a manly gesture, proudly proclaiming to all the other Gryffindors of how nothing could keep Harry Potter out for long. Hermione, who gave him a breath-taking hug as soon as Ron had let go. It felt good to be back at home with his family.

**A/N: Well this one took a while to get out. I set up the plotline of how Harry will eventually become an outcast like I've stated in the summary. I also stated his new outtake on the war, how he would kill to protect his friends. **

**I need an honest answer as to how I'm using Blaise? Is her character all right with you? Or does she seem like a mary sue? Comments please. Also if you need me to clarify on what's happening with Harry's magic strength, send a PM and I'll get back to you.**


	11. Musings

**King and Queen; Stone and Snow**

**A/N: A new day, a new chapter. In this one I will focus on the interaction between Blaise and Harry, give them a little more screen time. Let's hope I can flesh out their characters.**

**Excuse me for any bad grammar.**

**All hands forward!!!**

**Chapter 11: Musings**

His right hand was holding a silver spoon, idly stirring it through the flavored water sitting in a bowl in front of him. This was the food he was going to be condemned to for two weeks, little pieces of noodles and slices of bread being added every now and then. His eyes swiveled to the left to see the pile of slices of pork roast on Ron's plate along with an abundant amount of several other foods. He was currently stuffing his face with a turkey leg, chewing loudly with his mouth open. Harry shuddered, two parts disgust, one part envy of him being able to eat good food.

He looked to his right to see Hermione, face grimacing in disgust as she watched Ron. Her eyes found his and he mouthed 'pig' and jerked his thumb in the other direction. She rolled her eyes and chuckled before turning her attention to her own plate, a balance of meat and vegetables.

He looked down to stare in hatred at his bowl of broth. His hand continued to stir the spoon around the bowl, the clinking of silver on silver lost in the noise. He looked up to see Blaise staring pointedly at him as she ate her own food. She made motions, telling him to eat or he would be in some serious pain. She smirked to take the sting out of her actions. Reluctantly he began to eat.

Harry let the conversation wash over him, not bothering to answer any questions related to him. After several moments of awkward silence when someone asked him if he had really been captured and tortured by Death Eaters, did someone finally change the topic. They choose poorly when they asked if that really was the Head Boy badge on his shirt and how did he get picked.

Harry looked around curiously as he saw everyone go tense, their backs ramrod straight. He wondered why they went like that but then he remembered about what Pomfrey had told him of Hermione's actions concerning anything related to the Heads. He looked at her to see that she was smiling unnaturally in a somewhat predatory fashion. Her hand wrapped itself around his forearm and her smile became something gentler, but her eyes gleamed.

"Do tell, Harry. All Professor McGonagall has said is that the Heads were chosen and then she announced your names yesterday at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, to make sure everyone knew," she said, her voice as sweet as caramel. Her nails dug into his skin.

So, McGonagall hadn't given out a reason. Or maybe she had and Hermione just feigned that she didn't know and wanted to hear what he had to say. He was starting to get paranoid. He shook his head as he spoke, "Don't really know, I haven't had a chance to talk with her. Besides, I never thought I would get it so it's just a shock really." His answer wasn't good enough, her nails dug in deeper. It was painful but he didn't show it.

"Surely, Harry there must be some reason. I mean, both you and…Zabini weren't even Prefects. There must be some reason why you were chosen as Heads," she said, her voice strained lightly from keeping her emotions in check. Her nails again dug deeper, this time breaking the flesh. He never realized she had such sharp nails.

He didn't comment on what she said, merely looked down at his arm which was held in a death-grip, then back at her and said, "Nice nails." She looked down at where her hands was, blushed heavily and pulled her hand back quickly. Good thing the shirt was black, hard to see any blood. He shook his head at the thought. What the hell was he thinking?

He balanced the arm on his knee, underneath the table as the conversation picked up again. He felt a spell hit his arm as he drank some water. He still felt the cuts, but he looked down and saw the shirt was mended. So she didn't know that she made him bleed. He mouthed a 'thank you' at her. He could get the cuts mended later.

The rest of dinner passed without much affair. The talk mainly revolved around the week worth of classes he had missed in his stay at the hospital wing. He was surprised to hear that Remus had been brought back as the DADA instructor for this year. He really hadn't missed anything, classes were mostly focusing on the importance of NEWT exams and reviewing spells, potions, and plants from the previous six years. He did get the bad news in finding out that he had two essays due on Monday; one, in transfiguration and the other in DADA.

After eating two bowls of the broth, he was feeling hungry for something other than flavored water. His hand was reaching towards the loaves of bread when a stinging hex hit the back of his hand. He looked in the direction it came from to see Blaise at the Slytherin table raising an eyebrow at him warningly, the tip of her wand tapping against the tabletop. He sighed and reached to refill his bowl of broth, missing the look of satisfaction on Blaise's face.

When dinner was over, everyone around him stood up to head back towards Gryffindor Tower. He probably had to go back to the hospital wing, but Madame Pomfrey had only said to return there if he felt faint during dinner. Dinner was done and he didn't feel faint, so he joined up with everyone else and headed up the seven flights of stairs. He ignored the cross look he received from Hermione and just kept on walking past the portrait of the Fat Lady.

He sank down into the chair in front of the fire with a sigh of comfort as the plush cushions molded around his body. He saw out of the corner of his eye, Ron and Hermione sit down in the chairs next to his. He was personally content to sit in that chair, considering the possibilities of having a sore neck in the morning if he slept in it, until Hermione voiced a question.

"Harry?" He turned to look at her. "Can you tell us what happened?" she said in a concerned voice. He raised his eyebrows questionably. Did she really expect him to talk about that, hours after having just woken up.

"Can we wait 'til tomorrow to start the interrogation," he said. She had the decency to blush. "Has there been any news?"

"Nothing much really, except Scrimegour dying," said Ron, his voice surprisingly deep.

"He was killed? Has a new minister been voted in?" he asked.

"Yeah, his name was Thicknoose or something like that," said Ron.

"His name is Pius Thicknese and he was the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement before being sworn in as the new Minister of Magic," said Hermione in her lecture tone of voice.

Harry yawned in boredom. He really wasn't interested in the doings of the Ministry, it's not like going to stop him anytime soon. The two prior ministers had tried to get him to go with the flow and look where that had gotten them; one dead, and the other lost his job. This Thicknese character should learn the lesson and not mess with him.

The next hours passes with relative ease, Ron chatting him up about the Gryffindor quidditch team. What their weak points were, what positions they had to get stronger at, which positions needed to be filled. From there it led to the other Hogwarts teams, discussing the same things again. Harry knew that Ron was a quidditch fanatic, but this was a bit much. He even knew all the measurements of every single player; height, weight, length of their arms and legs, he even knew the bust and waist size of each female player which earned him an impressive glare from Hermione.

Hermione went up to her dorm and then came back down a bundle tucked under her arms. They turned out to be notes when he saw the writing on the first page after she placed them down. He raised an eyebrow in question, something he seemed to be doing a lot of lately, and she told him that they were for him to take so he can catch up. He heard the muttered "mental" coming from Ron before the indignant "Oi!" as Hermione hit him with a stinging hex.

Padding his pockets for his wand, he found it, but the pants were too snug to take it out sitting down. He stood up and pulled it out and waved it over the thick bundle of parchment and cast the spell to make a set of copies. He sat back down and then jumped right back up again when he sat on someone's lap. He looked to see who the bloody hell had decided to take his seat. He sighed when he saw it was Ginny.

"All the other seats are taken, Harry," she said in a voice that failed spectacularly to be aloof. He looked around to see that she was right. "So, if you don't mind sharing, I can sit on your lap?"

He looked at her, taking into account everything he knew about her. She was young, brasher than him, a fiery temper. She was pretty, he supposed, but the fact that she looked so much like his mother deducted points for him. And she thought that the fighting he was going to be involved in was a game. She didn't understand the seriousness of it. She would constantly try to tag along and she would just end up getting in the way. Hermione and Ron knew how serious the war was and they would keep their heads level, for the most part. It was for that main reason that he couldn't pursue a relationship with her. If she was involved with him, she would inevitably be dragged into the fight and he seriously thought that she wouldn't be able to handle herself.

He shook his head and waved her offer away, "No, I'm knackered. I'll probably head off to sleep. Ron, my trunk upstairs?"

He saw the hurt look in Ginny's eyes and knew that he would have to explain it more carefully to her. In answer to his question, it was Hermione who spoke.

"Actually Harry, the Head Boy shares a suite with the Head Girl. You would know if you had been a Prefect. It's explained in the rule book that is handed to you," she said in a surprisingly icy tone. She was bloody jealous! It's not like he asked to be Head Boy! And why in the flaming hell couldn't she be glad that he got picked! He wisely decided not to voice those opinions because he wanted to get some sleep and their argument might last a while. He looked around to see Ginny had walked out of the chair and was moving towards the staircase to her dorm.

"Ginny," he said. She stopped with her hand on the rail and turned to look at him, a hopeful expression on her face. "We need to talk tomorrow, okay?" Her reaction became somewhat subdued, but she nodded her head just the same. After muttering goodnights to Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, he gathered up the bundle of papers under his arm and walked out of the Gryffindor common room.

He covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a yawn. He felt exhausted already as he yawned for a second time. He waved his wand, casting the spell to check the time. It was close to eleven. Merlin, where had the time gone? Shifting his weight to carry the stack of notes easier, he walked a little faster, eager to get into the Head's common room and get into a bed.

He stopped in the middle of the hallway, having realized that he had no idea where in the hell the Head's dorm was. Groaning, he began to ask for directions from the portraits, some who yelled at him for waking them up, and others who made a point of ignoring him for the same reason. _'Stupid,'_ he thought to himself as he remembered that he could have just asked Dobby to tell him where the dorm was.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the little house elf appeared at his side, a rag for cleaning in his hands.

"Master Harry Potter called for Dobby?" he asked in that high-pitched voice of his.

"I just thought of your name right now. How did you know I was going to call you?" he asked.

Dobby became bashful all of sudden, his cheeks turning red and he started to shift on the spot, hands wringing together. "Well…Master Harry Potter…Dobby…bonded with you last year…choose you for his Master, Dobby did. And Dobby can hear Master's thoughts," he said.

Harry was shocked to say the least. Dobby had bonded with him? Didn't he have to accept and then say some mumbo-jumbo to make it official? He came back from his thoughts to see Dobby murmuring hushed apologies for not informing him of this matter and Harry saw that he was about to bang his head against the wall.

"Dobby, stop," he said in a calm voice. He waited until Dobby had stopped moving all together before resuming, "I really don't mind. Although I can say that I really wasn't expecting this, it's all right. Just don't call me Master, okay? You call me Harry and you're a friend, not a servant." Dobby just stood there, his mouth hanging open, obviously in some type of shock.

With that little matter cleared, Harry then asked him for directions to the dorm. Dobby, did one better; grabbing his wrist, he _apparated_ him to the outside of the dorm, right in front of the portrait. Dobby then said that if he should need anything to not hesitate to call and then he disappeared with a crack.

'_Well, I guess Hogwarts can't stop house elves from popping in and out,'_ he thought to himself. Turning his attention back to the portrait, he studied it carefully. It was a green pasture, empty save for the swaying grass that was being moved by an unseen wind, and two hooded figures in the middle of it. In a rush, the two figures rushed from opposite sides of the fields, spears of some sort clashing against each other.

Harry just watched as their actions increased in speed and intensity until he was just watching blurs move across the painting. One of them received a blow to his left side, sending him towards the front of the portrait. That's when they noticed him and the field instantly vanished to be replaced the picture of a study, the two men now sitting down in chairs in front of a fireplace.

One was short and stocky, the other tall and gangly. Shorty was pale with blond hair, while Too Tall was tan with black hair. Too Tall was looking at him unnervingly with Shorty watching him with an open smile. Shaking his head at what he had just seen, he asked if he could get in and then one, or possibly both, asked for the password. At that point, Harry proceeded to hit himself over the head with the stack of papers, cursing his stupidity for not getting the password from Blaise.

There was the sound of laughing and he looked up to see both of the men holding their hands to their guts, laughing like a pack of hyenas. The bloody portrait was leading him on! Shorty stopped laughing first and told him that a password hadn't been set because both Heads had to confirm it. The door swung open and Harry quickly moved past the laughing portrait.

He kicked off his shoes at the entrance, one landing near a coffee table, the other near the couch next to it. He was too bloody tired to pay attention to his surroundings and his knees bumped into several things before he found a door that had his name engraved on a plaque nailed to it. With a sigh of relief he opened it and stepped inside.

He took a moment to look around, checking to see if his things were in here. He saw the trunk at the foot of the bed and he opened it to see that everything had hastily been thrown in. He shut it, remembering that he never had the chance to pack his stuff for Hogwarts and someone had obviously done it for him. His hands patted the mattress and he sighed when he felt that it was soft and incredibly comfortable.

He stood up on his feet, taking off his shirt, prepared to undo his jeans and then fall right to sleep when the door opened with a bang. He turned around, wand already in his hand to point at…Blaise?

"Oh, it's only you. I thought it was…," he was cut off as something collided hard with his chest and then fell down onto his unprotected feet. He groaned in pain and started to hop on one foot, clutching his injured toes. Realizing that he was looking like an idiot in front of her, he stopped, ignoring the throbbing pain in his toes.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" he asked calmly.

"For my first two nights here, I was extremely comfortable. I had this huge dorm all to myself and it smelled nice. Now you're out of the hospital wing, you just stroll in here and kick off your shoes, leaving them wherever and waking me up in the process. Now, pay attention. I don't mind if you're a slob, but be a slob in your own room. Other people have to walk through the common room and I don't want to go walking around smelling your feet. Now is that understood?" she said in a quiet and calm whisper.

Harry looked down to see that his shoes were now on the floor and he realized that she had thrown them at him. She could have just handed them over to him, but no, she had to throw them. What the hell was wrong with her?! Although…he could see her point. He remembered how bad the room smelled in his dorm all the past six years because not one of them had ever really picked up the place.

"I'll try. Happy?" he said. Even though he could see her point, his feet still hurt.

Her arms crossed over her chest, drawing his attention to her breasts. He sternly looked up to meet her eyes, telling himself that he did not stare. The smirk he got in return told him otherwise. She was about to say something when her eyes narrowed and she moved closer to him. She grasped his arm and ran her fingers over the crescent-shaped cuts in his forearm.

"You are such an idiot, Potter. You've just barely gotten out of the hospital wing and you've injured yourself already. And I was getting along with you and then you had to pull that shite with leaving your shoes wherever you please, pissing me off in the process," she said in dulcet tones. Her wand appeared in her hand and she tapped each of the marks and then muttered something. The cuts closed up and then she vanished away the blood.

She stepped back and moved to the door. Stopping just inside the doorway, she looked back and said, "Now if you don't need anymore babying, I am going to retire for the evening. Goodnight, Potter."

She closed the door, leaving Harry standing there in the middle of his room, shirtless and with his mouth gaping. Babying?! He didn't need any babying! He had half a mind to go and tell her that, but he forced it back down. He was getting along fine with her until the Shoe Incident which he realized was his fault. So, if he did go there to argue over something that didn't need to be argued over, he would look like an arse and would ruin any friendship they might have right now.

Plus, going down all those steps and then back up again seemed like to much work. With that thought, he kicked off his jeans and climbed in under the heavy blankets, sighing in relief as his body was filled with warmth. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about what Blaise had been wearing when she talked down to him.

(Scene Break)

Blaise walked back into her room, slamming the door. She banged the back of her head against the oak and took a deep breath to calm herself down. Stupid vampire senses, stupid Potter! She had just walked into his room to return his shoes to him because she was not going to have the common room of her dorm look like a pigsty, but she didn't count on the fact that he was bleeding.

She raised her hand to her lips, taking another deep and steady breath. She moaned as the scent of his blood clouded her senses. There was an animalistic scent in it, the scent of raw power. She put her finger in her mouth and eagerly sucked his blood off. She sank down onto the floor, giving another quiet moan as she got her first taste of Potter. When she was done, she slumped against the door, her chest rising as she took heavy breaths at a fast pace.

She licked her lips, seeking for any remainder of his blood. She banged her head against the door when she realized that she was doing it again for the third time. She let the flood of pleasure slowly ebb, the overdrive Potter's blood had played on her almost gone. She stood up on shaky legs and ambled towards her dresser. Sitting down on the stool she stared at her reflection.

Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glazed over lightly, eyes glowing lightly. She grabbed the brush on the dresser and started to brush her hair, cursing her stupid vampire bloodlust. She usually had it under control, feeding from bottles of stored human blood that her father sent to her during the course of Hogwarts. It was usually distilled with water so the taste didn't intoxicate her and if she ran out than she just sent an owl asking for more.

She felt her breath quickening as she recalled the taste of Potter's blood. It practically drove her into a frenzy as she inhaled the scent of it, the power that it exuded. Then when she had barely gotten her first taste of it, she became greedy for more. And it was pure, not diluted by water, but 100 Potter. She banged her fist against the dresser, a small crater dented into the wood from the blow as she tried to think of something else. Tried to think of something besides the thought of what it would taste like if she drank it from the source.

She looked back at her reflection in the mirror as it started to waver. It always happened when her vampire blood became more prominent. She parted her lips to see the elongated fangs, the tips stained lightly in red. Her fangs were usually concealed for the most part, hers and any other vampires. They only extended when vampires were either going to feed, when the scent of blood was in the air and it sparked their senses, or when physically aroused, which eventually led to bloodlust.

She set the brush down after she was done and fixed the crack in the wood with a wave of her wand. She moved to her bed and slipped under the covers, trying in vain to not notice that her oversized shirt that she wore to sleep, stopping at mid thigh, held a small amount of Potter's scent…like freshly cut grass and rain. She groaned and angrily fluffed her pillows.

(Scene Break)

She woke up after the customary alarm of Xera, her little black cat, swatted her head with her paw. She cracked open an eye only to close them immediately and draw the covers over her head as the sun shone through the windows. Closing the curtains surrounding her bed, she was bathed in darkness and only then did she pull down the covers. She sat up, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head.

She scratched behind Xera's ears as she rubbed her head against her leg. Checking the time to see that there was only 30 minutes before breakfast was over. Grumbling under her breath, she opened the curtains for her bed and before she took a step onto the carpeted floor, she swished her wand and closed the drapes over the windows. Nodding in satisfaction she proceeded to dress in just a plain shirt and jeans. No classes today meant she could just lie about and she had already finished her assignment for classes so she had nothing to do.

Grabbing a book along the way to do some light reading, she walked out of her room and down the stairs, stepping into the common room. Seeing what was spread across the table, she placed a hand on her hip and turned to Potter, who was wearing a somewhat sheepish expression.

"Care to explain all this, Potter?" she all but drawled.

"Well you see…what I mean is…," he stammered before sighing. He drew himself up to his full height, he was quite tall she noted, and crossed his arms over his chest. She made a point to not look at his arms and listened to what he said. "An apology for leaving my shoes in here yesterday, I brought you your breakfast. I didn't know what you liked, so I got some of everything."

Looking back at the table that was practically groaning with the weight of the food, she surveyed the platters; pancakes, waffles, an assortment of muffins, various meats, and about three different pitchers of drinks. Taking a plump sausage, she popped it into her mouth. She moaned in delight and sat down to eat. Taking another sausage, she bit into it, tasting the small amount of blood that was inside. Obviously a house elf had known this food was to be for her and they knew how she liked her meat, medium-rare.

"Apology accepted," she said to Potter after finishing the sausage. Loading her plate with food and goblet with drink, she ate, watching Potter out of the corner of her eye. When he reached for a sausage, she slapped his hand away. "Mine." She smirked at him and moved the plate out of his reach. He just scoffed and slumped against the brown-colored couch that was sitting on.

As she was nearly finished, she noticed that Potter had never even loaded up his plate with food, in fact he didn't even have a plate at all. After taking a bite of her chocolate muffin, she asked, "Not hungry Potter?"

"I already ate Zabini," he said somewhat sulkily.

She chuckled with mirth and replied, "Don't sulk Potter, it doesn't become you."

"You would too if all you get to eat is a bowl of water," he practically growled.

"It does have lemon in it. And that should teach you a lesson."

"A lesson?! It's not like I asked to be hospitalized," he said, his eyes narrowing.

Sipping from her goblet, she replied calmly, "You should make sure not to get injured so badly next time. That way you can eat all this _delicious_ food." She grinned at him at the end and ate a piece of a pancake, moaning in satisfaction.

He growled again, the action making him seem as animal as his blood was. She licked her lips and shuddered at the memory before she "_tsked"_ at him, "Careful, Potter. You're starting to act like a dog or in your case an overgrown puppy. And Xera doesn't like dogs so you better watch yourself."

"Xera?" he said, his lips mouthing out the word again.

"My cat and she doesn't take kindly to strangers. Especially those who act like animals," she smirked. At that, she heard the soft footfalls of Xera padding down the stairs and into the common room. She leaped onto Blaise's lap, meowing and purring for attention.

"Oh, that's what your name is. I saw you last night, but I didn't know you belonged to Zabini. Good thing I came prepared," said Potter, addressing Xera. Blaise watched as her cat,_ hers_, switched her attention to Potter as he revealed a platter loaded with fish, sliced open to show that there were no bones. Potter moved the plate to his couch, next to his legs and Xera happily bounded over to his side,_ his_, and started to eat. Xera even purred when Potter scratched her behind her ears. And that damn Potter had the courage to look at her and grin.

"She seems to like me. Guess I'm not an animal, am I?"

Deciding not to answer, Blaise opened her book and started to read. Most people reacted fearfully to Xera for some unknown reason. So far, all of those people had turned out be prats or in general, people that she did not like. Her cat was a good judge of character, having only allowed Pansy to ever pet her. So it seemed quite reasonable to introduce Potter to her cat to find out what sort of person he was. For some reason that she didn't want to begin to think about, she was annoyed that Potter had passed Xera's little test with flying colors, evident as Xera nudged his leg to be petted and stroked.

She flipped to the next page, eager to see what happens at the end between the two main characters. So enthralled was she in finding out their fates that she didn't feel the dip of the couch as Potter sat next to her. She did however feel him when their shoulders bumped and he leaned over to read the text.

"That doesn't look like a textbook," he said, his voice extremely close to her ear.

Her cheeks flushed and she closed the book with a snap. Turning towards Potter, she poked his chest, "Didn't anyone ever teach you about personal boundaries? And what does it matter what book I'm reading?"

"I just couldn't see the title from where I was sitting. I was just curious, nothing to get mad about," he said with a smile. He moved away from the couch and Blaise returned to reading her book after a minute. Again, she was lost in the words and she didn't notice the shadow looming over her. The book was plucked out of her hands and she saw Potter scrambling away from her.

"This is a very interesting book you have here. Let's see what it's called," he said before turning the book over to read the title.

She stood up from the couch, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She could not let Potter read the title nor read even one passage of that book. The embarrassment that would come from it would be too much. She ran at him and tackled him to the ground, trying to reach the book that he was moving out of her reach. She leaned forward, her fingertips brushing the spine of the book when she was interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

"Ms. Zabini, when you said that you were on somewhat amicable terms with Mr. Potter, I did not realize to the extent that your friendship ran," Headmistress McGonagall said in a clipped Scottish brogue.

Looking down at Potter, she saw the position that they were in. She was straddling his waist, one of her hands splayed on his chest, the other near the book. Her shirt had ridden up, exposing her navel and Potter's hand was on her waist, the other near the book as well. He had long arms and was able to reach fine, but she had to lean, inadvertently putting her chest near his face. She blushed even harder and scrambled off of him quickly, standing upright, arms at her sides. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Potter standing the same way, his face blushing as well.

"Headmistress, this isn't what it looks like," she said in a hurried voice.

"It is acceptable that you are having a relationship. Just be sure to not take it too far Ms. Zabini. I trust that there won't be a little Potter running around in nine months?" said McGonagall with a Dumbledore like twinkle in her eye.

She gasped, her cheeks blushing even more if it were possible. The spluttering that she heard coming from Potter was indication enough of his embarrassment over the situation.

"We weren't doing anything!"

"My eyes do not deceive me Mr. Potter. I can assure that I won't divulge the secret of your affair with Ms. Zabini. Here is your schedule and rule book for Head Boy. Be sure to not take this relationship too far, too fast. Good day to both of you," said the Headmistress.

The opening and closing of the portrait told Blaise that she had left. She pivoted on her foot, glaring at Potter who was smiling sheepishly at her, his hand scratching the side of his head in embarrassment.

"Uuumm…Sorry?" he said nervously.

She couldn't believe the gall of this man! Too angry to commit she just strode forward and poked him hard in the chest. She was forced to look up at him and she cursed her small stature as she craned her neck to look him in the eye. "If even one peep of this incident gets out, you will wish you had never met me." Cheeks heated in part anger and embarrassment, she raked her nails down his chest and then shoved him away from her. She stalked off, bristling with anger, trying hard to make it seem like she was walking instead of running to her room. She only stopped when Potter called out her name.

"What?!" she growled, not even bothering to look at him.

She heard him walking towards her and felt his body close to hers. Something landed on her shoulder and grabbed it, realizing it was her book. She closed her eyes to steady her breathing, hoping that Potter hadn't looked at the title. If he was a gentleman than he wouldn't have done so. As she neared her door, hand on the handle she heard Potter speak one last time.

"Nice title."

She wanted to scream in frustration. Instead she opened the door and stepped inside, slamming the door closed. Holding the book in front of her, she read the title to herself, "Fantasy Lover." Why? Why had she taken this book downstairs? Now Potter knew her guilty pleasure. She groaned as she flopped down onto the bed. What a way to start the school year.

**A/N: A part of me likes and hates this chapter. I know that it's going a bit slow, but I want to show the different sides of the characters. **

**You got to see Blaise's little quirk. Not exactly a clean freak, but she won't stand to have the common of the Head's to be dirty and a pigsty. **

**Someone commented on sexual tension, some saying it was too fast, others saying too slow. In the beginning it was just some harmless flirting, I think it was the fifth or sixth chapter that they were clearly flirting with each other. Then in the this one and the last one, it's more subtle. Just looking at certain assets and areas of each other.**

**In the next chapter, we have the aftermath of this little tussle they had and Harry's first DADA class. It will be extremely interesting and I hope, funny. Some more Blaise/Harry tension in the next chapter.**

**Oh, and Blaise's guilty pleasure is romance novels. HAHAHA!!**

**Sorry if this one was too short for some people.**


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